Riddle of the Ages
by Leyrann
Summary: At the age of seven, Harry Potter meets the new neighbors, including twin sisters his age. When he introduces himself, they recognize his name. Four years later, a very different Harry Potter takes the train to Hogwarts. See AN for more detailed information. AU.
1. 1-0: BOOK 1: A NEW WORLD

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****READING THIS AUTHOR NOTE IS ADVISED!**  
(by me)**

A general summary of important things. May be updated later on if needed:

This story will have a long runtime, probably several years. I have done and am still doing significant worldbuilding for it, including a detailed nobility system, a refined magic system, a properly functioning wizarding world, and so on. The story itself will be divided (internally) in seven books, one for each school year. The first book will also contain a few pre-Hogwarts chapters (the prologue and the first three chapters take place before the start of canon book 1). In the first book, canon events will be recognizable, but after that the unfolding events will demand a different path.

Also, there's a few notices and disclaimers that I want to get out of the way:  
-Dumbledore is an antagonist. He is not an idiot that does not cover his bases, and he is not a card-carrying villain or just evil for the sake of it.  
-Voldemort is also an antagonist. He, too, is not an idiot, and has motivations for doing what he does.  
-Politics and the Wizengamot will play a major role.  
-The Wizarding World has cultural (and legal) gender equality.  
-Every wizard and witch has received a common sense upgrade compared to canon.  
-This is not a simple Good versus Evil. All sides have merits, faults, strong points and weak points. Be it Dumbledore, Voldemort, Harry, Gryffindor, Slytherin, the Ministry or any other person or faction that plays a role.  
-Related, no one will be bashed. Not Dumbledore, not Snape, not the Weasleys, not the Malfoys, not anyone else.  
-If something seems strange, unlikely or out of place, chances are it will be explained later. This applies to the first book in particular. (note: I do reserve the right to have a brain fart and simply mess up)

**Disclaimer: **Apparently these disclaimers are absolutely completely useless. So hey, doesn't matter what I put here. Or if I even make one at all.

* * *

**Riddle of the Ages**

* * *

_**Book 1: A New World**_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

It was Harry Potter's birthday today.

Not that anyone cared.

He tugged at the obstinate weed.

It wouldn't budge.

He tugged harder, with both hands.

Suddenly, it came loose, and he tumbled on his back. _No_. He glanced down and winced at the dirt all over his clothes. Quickly, he brushed it off as well as he could. If Aunt Petunia saw it…

He'd turned seven today.

Not that anyone cared.

He should be thinking about more important things. Yesterday, Uncle Vernon had thrown him into his cupboard just before dinner because… something. Harry had probably deserved it, though he wasn't sure why. He'd only been let out this morning to cook breakfast, and they hadn't let him eat, which meant he'd have to steal food somehow. The problem was that both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were home, so he'd never get into the kitchen unseen.

He pulled out a few more weeds.

"Hi," a voice said.

Harry looked up to see a black-haired girl who was just barely tall enough to peek over the hedge between the pavement and Aunt Petunia's garden. She seemed to be around his age. Taller than he was, but then, he was really short for his age. And frail.

"Hi," he greeted back. He didn't think he'd ever seen her before.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. "I'm Tomasha."

"Uh, I'm Harry," Harry said, bracing himself for the rejection that was about to follow.

"Nice to meet you," the girl said to his surprise. "Do you like working in the garden?"

Harry shrugged. He wasn't supposed to talk to people about his chores.

The girl stepped through the gate into the garden.

"You shouldn't do that," Harry said.

"Why not?"

"Aunt Petunia doesn't like it when I talk to other children."

Tomasha frowned in confusion. "Then how do you make friends?"

"A freak like me doesn't deserve friends," Harry mumbled the words that were always repeated, staring at the ground.

He hoped she'd go away. If Aunt Petunia saw him talking to another child, he'd get no lunch again today, and he was already so hungry.

"You don't look like a freak to me."

Unsure how to reply to that, Harry went back to weeding the garden.

"I can be your friend, if you want."

He looked up at her again. "You shouldn't be my friend."

"Why not?"

"Dudley beats people who want to be my friend."

"I'm not afraid of bullies."

"But…" How could he explain this to her? He liked this girl, and he didn't want her to get hurt. She was the first person he could remember that was nice to him.

That was the moment the door swung open – apparently Aunt Petunia had seen Tomasha from the window.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I was talking to Harry," she gestured to him, not at all intimidated by the adult.

"You shouldn't," Petunia said snidely. "That freak's never up to any good, a danger to be around I tell you. Are you new here?"

Tomasha nodded. "We moved in just last week at number 10."

Petunia gave a smile calculated to look warm and inviting. "Welcome to the neighborhood. What's your name?"

"Tomasha Riddle. Nice to meet you, Mrs…?"

"Dursley. Petunia Dursley."

"So Harry is your nephew?"

Petunia's face turned sour. "Perhaps you should go find your parents. Where are they?"

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Tomasha said enthusiastically. "I could introduce Harry to my sister. Come, Harry."

She stepped up to Harry, who was still sitting on his knees, when Petunia spoke up. "No. The boy stays here."

Tomasha snapped her eyes up and met Petunia's own, grey staring straight into blue for several seconds. Eventually, Petunia relented, to Harry's surprise.

"Okay, take the boy out of my sight. He has to be back by evening." She turned on her heel and went back inside.

Harry stared at the door that had closed behind her until Tomasha touched his arm and he reflexively shied back. He regarded her as she held her arm out, and suddenly realized she expected him to hold her hand like other children did.

Hesitantly, he stood and grabbed her hand, and she immediately dragged him to wherever she was going.

"So is your surname Dursley, too?" Tomasha asked.

"No," Harry said. "It's 'Potter'."

She dragged him along maybe a second longer, then suddenly stopped.

"Potter? _Harry_ Potter?"

Harry answered affirmatively.

"You're _Harry Potter_?"

"Uh, yes," Harry said confused, wondering what was so special about that.

The girl studied him a little longer. "You… you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

She huffed. "I'll introduce you to my sister and foster parents first. So how old are you?"

"I turned seven today. It's my birthday."

"Oh, congratulations, I'm seven too. So did you, uh, did you get any presents?"

Harry shook his head. "I never get presents."

She looked at him, open-mouthed. "That's just unfair. But hey, this is the house we moved into, let's see if I can find my sister, I don't think my foster parents are home right now."

Harry followed her into the building, which still showed all the signs of a recently moved family – no decorations or paintings on the walls, a few boxes in corners, and that general sterile feeling of not-being-lived-in.

"Delph!" Tomasha called into a room she peeked her head in, "I met a boy from the neighborhood."

Harry heard a mutter at the edge of his hearing, and a few seconds later another girl stepped through the doorway. Though she looked to be the same age, her appearance was very different from Tomasha. She had a stout build, probably strong enough to overpower most boys her age in a schoolyard scuffle, and her eyes were violet to Tomasha's grey. But perhaps the biggest difference was her hair, which had been dyed an almost silvery blonde with light blue tips.

"Harry, this is my twin sister, Delphini. Delph, this is Harry Potter."

Delphini barely spared him a glance before turning to her sister with a thoroughly bored _look_. "Sure, and I'm Dumbledore."

Tomasha leaned closer to her sister and whispered, though Harry could still make out the words. "Black hair, green eyes, you can even see the scar under his hair."

Delphini glanced at Harry again, a little longer this time, then leaned back into Tomasha, she too whispering loud enough for Harry to hear. "Are you _sure_ its him?"

"I'm standing right here," Harry said, feeling slightly offended.

Delphini gave him another incredulous look. "You're a _Parselmouth_?"

"A what?"

This time, her look was a little more calculating, and she looked back and forth between her sister and Harry before finally settling on him again. "You don't even know?"

"Know what?" This day was becoming very confusing very quickly.

"Delph," Tomasha said, "I'm pretty sure he doesn't know anything."

"_What?_" Delphini exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked nervously, already seeing this potential friendship fall into shambles. "I don't think I'm a genius or anything, but I can always answer the teacher's questions in class and—"

Tomasha cut him off. "Not about that. §Listen carefully to what I'm saying, how I'm exactly pronouncing the words.§"

Harry understood perfectly what she was saying, but following Tomasha's directions, he realized she _wasn't actually talking English_. Rather, she was making some kind of… hissing sounds.

"How… Why could I understand that?" Harry asked, confused.

"§Because you're a Parselmouth,§" Tomasha said. "§Parseltongue is a magical language which some people can simply understand from birth. And if you can understand it, you can also speak it if you want to.§"

"§Magical?§" Harry asked confused, only to become even _more_ confused when he noticed he was now making those hissing sounds too, and yet what he said was perfectly understandable to him.

"See?" Tomasha said, turning to Delphini. "He doesn't know _anything_." She grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him into another room, Delphini following behind as she continued talking. "It's unbelievable that _you_, of all people, wouldn't know about _magic_. Sit down." She almost pushed him onto the couch of the living room they'd entered, then took her own spot right next to him, Delphini sitting down on a chair, intensely studying Harry.

Harry was just getting _more_ confused. "What do you mean, magic?" It was something he sometimes hoped for, or dreamed about, but the topic was beyond forbidden at home. Even just saying the M-word was likely to get him a beating and a week in the cupboard.

"Magic. Just… magic. One second." Tomasha jumped up from the couch again and left the room to return several seconds later with a small package. "This is a chocolate frog," she said, showing – well, a frog made of chocolate. She ripped open the parcel… and the frog jumped away. Harry quickly overcame his surprise and snatched it out of the air halfway through its second jump. For a moment, it wriggled in his hand, then it fell still as if it had never moved.

He looked at it, somewhat uncertain what just happened.

"It's just a piece of candy," Tomasha said. "It's been animated by magic to act like a frog if you let it go or don't catch it. Eat it, if you want."

Harry wondered for a moment if it really didn't have feelings, but then decided his stomach was more important – that was a lesson very well learned at the Dursleys. Just as he bit off a leg (which luckily wasn't accompanied by any kind of sound other than that of chocolate breaking with a snap), Tomasha gave a little chuckle. It seemed she was looking at the package. A moment later she put it away and sat back down next to Harry, serious again.

"So yes, magic is real, and you're a wizard, just like we're witches."

That brought Harry back to the discussion at hand. He swallowed his next bite of chocolate and tried to formulate a response.

"But… I mean, it can't be real, right? And, and why would _I_ be a wizard?"

"Because your parents were, of course," Tomasha said, as if it were obvious. "And yes, it's real. That's why I showed you the frog; to prove it. Also, the ability to speak Parseltongue only appears among wizards and witches."

"So… that's how you knew?" Harry asked. "That I'm… that I'm a wizard?" He finished his chocolate frog.

"Actually, no," Tomasha said. "I, uh… recognized your name."

Harry was reminded of how both she and Delphini had reacted when he told them his name. Tomasha had been surprised, and Delphini hadn't even believed her sister… until Tomasha pointed out what Harry looked like.

"Why would you recognize my name?" Harry asked.

Delphini was fidgeting on her seat, and Harry was unsure if she was annoyed or excited – or perhaps even both – but it was again Tomasha who answered.

"You're famous," she said.

"Famous?" Harry asked, starting to wonder if they were playing some kind of mean prank on him. Maybe Dudley had come up with this… no, wait, Dudley wasn't creative or smart enough for that. Not a prank, then.

"Famous," Tomasha repeated. She looked him straight in the eyes, opening and closing her mouth two times trying to figure out what to say. "I don't think there's an easy way to go about it," she finally decided. "So I'll just give you the short version. Almost twenty years ago an evil wizard started a war to try and conquer the magical world, and at some point your parents also joined the fight against him. He came after your parents on Halloween 1981 to kill them and you. For some reason, when he tried to kill you, the curse he used to try to kill you reflected back and killed him instead. That's also how you got your scar. Everyone knows the story."

Harry gaped at her in silence, trying to absorb the information. "So… my parents didn't die in a car accident?" he finally asked.

"A car accident?!" Delphini exclaimed.

Harry looked down in shame. "That's what my aunt told me. She… she said they were useless layabouts and drunks."

"And you believed that?" Tomasha demanded harshly. She rapidly softened when Harry shied back, and put her hand on his arm. Again, he twitched away, but he quickly realized she was trying to comfort him.

"Sorry," she said quietly, retracting her arm again. "Harry, I don't think you should trust what your aunt tells you. After all, she never told you that you are a wizard, even though she must have known." Again, she looked him intensely in the eyes. "And don't tell her we told you, I don't think she would be happy about that."

Harry shook his head, imagining the beating he'd get if he told Uncle Vernon – or even Aunt Petunia – that he was a wizard. His thoughts went back to what Tomasha had just told him, about the wizard that had killed his parents.

"Who was this wizard?"

Delphini looked uncomfortable, but Tomasha was unfazed.

"His name was Voldemort," she said. "A lot of people are scared of that name, though, and instead call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"You're not scared of it?" Harry asked. He was starting to think Tomasha wasn't scared of anything.

She shook her head. "I'm not. It's silly to be afraid of a name." After a few moments of silence, she stood up and got something from the table. The package of the chocolate frog, Harry realized.

"Chocolate frogs come with cards of famous people," Tomasha said, "with a bit of text about them. When I took the one I just showed you out of the package, I noticed the card is actually about you."

"Me?" Harry asked, just as she showed the card to him. It read:

_Harry James Potter  
__b. 31 July 1980_

_Harry Potter, also known as the 'Boy-Who-Lived', is famous for his defeat of the Dark Lord You-Know-Who on Halloween 1981. When the Dark Lord attempted to kill him, the curse rebounded and killed You-Know-Who instead. Harry Potter is currently being raised in an unknown location, and will go to Hogwarts in the year 1991._

Harry turned the card around and, to his amazement, found a moving picture of himself, looking happy while observing them.

"It moves?" he asked.

"All wizarding pictures move," Tomasha said. "There's a spell for that."

Harry turned the card around again. "What's Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Tomasha said. "It's the largest and best magical school of the country. Your parents both went there as well. Delph and me will also go when we're eleven."

"I thought we were going to Durmstrang," Delphini said.

Tomasha shook her head at her sister. "Thorfinn and Euphemia changed their mind."

"Who are Thorfinn and Euphemia?" Harry asked.

"Our foster parents," Tomasha said. "Thorfinn and Euphemia Rowle."

"Are your parents dead, too?" Harry suddenly asked.

Delphini now looked very uncomfortable.

"I'd rather not talk about that," Tomasha said neutrally. "Another time."

"Sorry," Harry said, realizing what he'd asked. "I didn't mean to be insensitive."

"It's okay," Tomasha said. "It's just… a rather complicated situation."

The front door opened, and Harry immediately stiffened.

"That'll be Thorfinn and Euphemia," Tomasha said. "It's almost lunch time. You want to stay, Harry?"

"Is… is that alright?" he asked uncertainly.

"Of course it is," Tomasha said as the door to the living room opened. A large, blonde man entered, then froze upon seeing Harry.

"Who is that?" he asked after a second, glancing at Tomasha.

"Harry Potter," she immediately replied. "He lives just a few houses over! Can he stay for lunch?"

The man made a few confused and shocked faces as he tried to settle on a reaction. "_Harry Potter_, you say?"

Tomasha nodded and made a pleading face. "Please?"

Thorfinn relented. "He can stay."

"Can I help Euphemia making lunch?" Tomasha immediately asked.

A dark-haired woman with a much smaller build appeared from behind Thorfinn and gave Harry a calculating look before switching her gaze to Tomasha. "If you wish."

* * *

**AN: And we're off! Expect updates to take a little longer than they did for The Advantages of Being Sane for two reasons. First, this fic requires more thought put in the writing, and second, the updates will be longer because I wouldn't be surprised if this hits 600-900k words eventually, and with 3k word chapters that would mean 200-300 chapters, which is a horror I don't want to bestow upon you all. I will most likely be aiming for chapter lengths closer to 5-10k words, depending on what feels comfortable. Variance is also likely to be a little bigger.**

**AN: Also, and this is _really_ annoying me, ffnet is under the impression Delphini Riddle is called Delphi Riddle, which is_ just wrong_. It's - at best - a short version of her name that is used, but as you can read above I prefer Delph over Delphi anyway. Fewer egregious Greek associations that way. Anyway, rant over.**

**UPDATED 05-02-2020. Mostly some polishing of the opening AN, also caught a typo or two.**


	2. 1-1: You are Lord Potter

**AN: ****154 favorites, ****293 follows, 22 reviews. For barely 3k words. I'm quite simply speechless. Unbelievable. One out of every five people that even _opened_ the first chapter followed it, which is just ridiculous (to compare: The Advantages of Being Sane is closer to one out of fifteen). Thank you so much everyone.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: You are Lord Potter**

* * *

Another day, another beating.

When Uncle Vernon had heard that Harry had spent the entire day with the new neighbors, Harry had been locked in his cupboard for two days, and he'd only been let out this morning, and gotten the belt as a reminder to 'not talk to strangers'.

Perhaps normally Harry would have complied, but the knowledge that there was an entire world out there people couldn't see, a world where he _belonged_, not to mention potential _friends_ who could tell him about it, was simply too much to ignore.

So he carefully made his way outside, trying to not hurt the various fresh bruises and wounds too much with his movements. Once in the garden, he looked around, hoping to see either of the girls. When that wasn't the case, he hunched down in the corner, praying Aunt Petunia wouldn't see him and forget about him. In the meanwhile, he'd listen if someone came by, in particular if the footsteps were those of a child.

It was not to be; after perhaps five minutes Aunt Petunia left the house, searching for and quickly finding him.

"There you are, boy. I already thought you'd ran off again. Come back inside right now, you have to do the laundry."

Meekly, and knowing backtalk would only get him a beating or time locked in his cupboard (or both), Harry followed her back inside. He trudged up the stairs, collected the piles of dirty clothes his relatives had carelessly thrown on the floor in a corner of their rooms, then brought it all to the pantry where he dumped it next to the washing machine.

It didn't seem like it was enough to split, so he simply started putting in the clothes. He got the detergent, put in the correct amount, and the doorbell rang.

Hurriedly, he shut the washing machine closed, winced as the sudden movement hurt his side, selected the right program and pressed the start button. He made his way to the hall, careful not to hurt himself again, and just when he got there Aunt Petunia opened the door for Tomasha, and inside he jumped in joy. He'd hoped it had been her or her sister from the moment he heard he doorbell.

"Yes?" Aunt Petunia asked in a pinched voice.

"Can Harry come over to play?" the girl asked, an angelic smile on her face. Harry was pretty sure it was fake, but Aunt Petunia didn't seem to notice. Then again, all Petunia's smiles were fake too. Perhaps she just didn't know the difference.

The woman seemed to be fighting an internal battle for a few seconds, though her eyes didn't waver from Tomasha, before she sighed.

"He has to be back before dinner."

Harry made his way through the hall as quickly as he could, not pausing to consider the possibility Aunt Petunia might get angry at him listening while she was answering the door, and stepped outside. Like last time, Tomasha immediately led the way to her home.

Unlike last time, Harry couldn't match her speed without hurting himself, and when he tried he grunted in pain. Tomasha, of course, immediately noticed.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," Harry replied. Even though Aunt Petunia had miraculously allowed him to spend time with other children – twice! – he wasn't going to push his luck even further by mentioning the beatings.

"It's not nothing," Tomasha said, grabbing his hand and slowly but determinedly pulling him to Privet Drive 10. Once there, she gently but equally determined pushed him on a couch, so he was lying on his stomach, and then suddenly pulled up his shirt and undershirt at once before he could react.

Harry didn't even hear her gasp as he panicked, imagining what she saw now, certain no one would ever be friends with someone like him, someone who was beaten so much, someone who let it happen, seven years old or not. She would be disgusted, tell him to go home, that she never wanted to see him again. She'd tell Delphini, she'd go around the neighborhood telling people that Harry Potter was a coward. She'd tell _the magical world_ that he was—

"HARRY!"

Suddenly, Harry was drawn back into the world around him, and he realized Tomasha had been calling and shouting his name several times.

It sounded like something broke, and Harry noticed a shattered pot on the floor, earth all over the floor in between the shards. He looked up and saw how Tomasha used her hand to guide a vase to the table it had been standing on. Instinctively, Harry tried to crawl up around himself, becoming as small as possible. The beatings after things had broken were always the worst.

Instead, someone sat down on the couch next to him, but not quite touching him. He glanced at the person. Tomasha. Of course. She wouldn't hurt him, right?

Right?

"That was some powerful accidental magic," Tomasha said. "You made half the room fly around, Harry." There was no judgement in her voice.

He looked around and noticed that all kinds of objects had move from their original position. Another vase was lying on the side, all the water having spilled out on the floor, a few pieces of parchment – parchment? Why not paper? – were spread across the room, one soaked with the water from the vase, and the pillow that had been lying neatly on the end of the other couch was now lying square in the middle.

"W-what happened?" Harry asked, fearful.

"Accidental magic," Tomasha said. "It happens to all magical children when we get emotional about something. Don't worry, Euphemia will have everything fixed in a moment."

"Even the pot?"

"There's a spell specifically for repairing broken stuff."

"What about the dirt?"

Tomasha shrugged. "Cleaning spell. Hey, uh, we have a few pastes and the like for wounds, you want me to give you some?"

Harry shied back.

"I won't tell anyone."

"It's not needed."

"Yes it is," Tomasha argued. "I just want to help you, Harry."

"Why?" The word was out of his mouth before he knew it.

She looked him in his eyes. "Because you're my friend. Well, if you want to be my friend."

She meant it, Harry realized as if it were the most wondrous thing in the world. He nodded. "I'd like that."

"Then let me get something for your back." Part of Harry wanted to cringe at the reminder that she knew, yet another part was amazed that despite that, she still wanted to be his friend.

"Just don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

She left, then returned about a minute later, carrying various bottles and pots, each neatly labeled. The pastes and liquids inside had the strangest colors, however.

"I'm going to pull up your shirt again," Tomasha warned. This time, Harry managed to stay calm as she did so. She remained silent for several seconds, and Harry was just starting to wonder if she'd changed her mind about him when she spoke up again.

"I'm going to start with the bleeding wounds," she said. "This is going to prickle a bit but it shouldn't be worse than what you're already feeling." That turned out to be an accurate description. She was very gentle while applying the paste, making sure to never press too hard, and even though it did prickle a bit the paste also felt nice and cold on Harry's burning skin, and by the time she had finished the pain had already become less. Next, she took out a different paste, one that didn't prickle, and applied it to the various bruises. Harry wasn't sure how much difference it would make, but he figured he could find that out by gently poking them afterwards and seeing if it hurt. Suddenly, Tomasha held a bottle filled with red liquid in front of him.

"Drink this," she said. "It's a healing potion, a mix of like five different potions that together have everything you need to keep up with the faster healing caused by the pastes."

Harry downed the entire thing, which seemed to have multiple tastes at once, some nice, some awful. He'd long learned to ignore tastes he didn't like, however. Something was better than nothing.

"We should get something for your scars," Tomasha said. "The ones on your back. Euphemia doesn't have anything I can use, however, so it might take a few weeks because we can't ask her."

"What are we going to do about the pot?" Harry asked, glancing down at where the shards still lay.

"Just tell Euphemia you had some accidental magic."

"Won't she be mad?"

"Of course not! It's _accidental_ magic. You can't control it. I'm gonna get Delph so we can play."

* * *

It was about a week later when Lord so-and-so got mentioned and Harry finally decided to ask after the term.

"Uh, Lordships," Tomasha said before falling silent for a few seconds. Meanwhile Delphini was looking at Harry with those big, surprised eyes again before settling on disinterest.

"Lordships are… super important in the wizarding world," Tomasha said. "You know the House of Lords?"

Harry nodded; he'd heard of that.

"Well, the wizarding world has one too, only they're actually the ones in charge. And it's completely hereditary."

"Hereditary?"

"You become a Lord or Lady if your father or mother was one," Tomasha explained. "But always only one per family. Actually, you're Lord Potter."

Harry tried to absorb this latest piece of information. "What does that mean?"

"A lot," Tomasha said. "Uh, the first thing is that you have a seat in the Wizengamot, which is the Wizarding House of Lords. Actually, you have several votes… Delph, is House Potter a Noble and Ancient House?"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Well, I figured you might. I'll ask Euphemia." Tomasha left the room.

"You don't know this?" Delphini asked.

Harry shook his head. "I hadn't even heard of the wizarding world until you told me about it."

Delphini sniffed. "You have a lot to learn, Potter."

Tomasha returned. "House Potter is indeed a Noble and Ancient House. That means you have three votes in the Wizengamot. Noble Houses and Ancient Houses each get one vote, you get a third if you are both, and if you are Most Noble or Most Ancient you also get an extra vote."

"Why is that?" Harry asked. "That doesn't seem fair." Why didn't everyone just get one vote?

"It's just how it works," Tomasha said. "Tradition is very important in the wizarding world, and old families – the Ancient Houses – are a part of that. Your house becomes Ancient if it's been part of the wizarding world for long enough, I believe like eight hundred years or something. The Noble thing is something that's voted on by the other Houses. Basically, if they think your family is important, they can make you Noble. Most of the Ancient Houses are also Noble though."

"So how many Houses are there?" Harry asked, interested. He'd already forgotten – for now – that he had just learned he was a Lord himself.

"About forty," Tomasha said. "The exact number varies. Sometimes a House can die out because two families marry together and don't get enough children, and sometimes a new House is founded or revived. The Houses of Slytherin and Hufflepuff could be revived, for example, but don't currently exist."

Harry missed the sideways look Tomasha received from her sister.

"What does that mean, reviving a House?" Harry asked. "And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"Reviving a House means bringing back an older House that isn't part of the Wizengamot," Tomasha explained. "Slytherin and Hufflepuff are the Hogwarts Houses, which is something else. Basically, a Hogwarts House is the classmates you'll share a dorm with while at Hogwarts. There are four Houses at Hogwarts, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, which were back then all noble families. The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor families are extinct, but there are still descendants of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, but they have lost their seats in the Wizengamot."'

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Both seats were lost because the only possible heir was already Head of another House," Tomasha said. "According to the law, you cannot have more than one House title. The only way the Houses can come back is if someone who can prove their family line to the House receives enough votes in the Wizengamot to revive it."

"Is that hard?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tomasha said. "The House of Slytherin has really bad reputation nowadays, and the only person who could claim it in the last century is Voldemort, and he'd never get the support needed. The House of Hufflepuff can be claimed by the Smith family, and several people have tried, but no one ever got enough support for that either for several reasons."

"What about me?" Harry asked, remembering his family played into this all as well. "Could I claim another House?"

"I… don't think so," Tomasha said, uncertainly. "Well, you can't because you're already Lord Potter. Maybe if you'd have had a younger brother or sister they could've claimed House Peverell though, that's a famous but extinct House."

"House Peverell?" Delphini questioned. "I've never heard of them."

"Both the House of Potter and the House of Gaunt can trace their lineage back to them," Tomasha said. "But I don't think either can also claim the House."

"You mean—"

"Yes."

Harry looked confused at Tomasha cutting off her twin. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing important," Tomasha said. "The House of Gaunt is the same House through which Voldemort had his claim on the Slytherin Lordship."

Harry did not miss the staring battle between the twins, but after a few seconds Delphini averted her eyes and both acted as if nothing had happened, while Harry didn't want to risk asking about it. Instead, he asked something else.

"So is uh, what was your name again? Riddle, right? Is the House of Riddle also a noble House?"

Tomasha shook her head. "Our father was the first wizard with the name Riddle. Riddle is just one of the many non-noble families. Thorfinn is Lord Rowle though, of the Noble and Ancient House of Rowle. I can teach you about the noble families, if you want. You really should know that before you go to Hogwarts."

Harry averted his eyes to stare at a spot just in front of his feet. "I don't think I'll go to Hogwarts," he said softly.

"What?" Delphini exclaimed. "Why not?"

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He opened it a second time. "I… I don't think Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will let me."

Tomasha scoffed. "They don't get to decide if you get to go to Hogwarts. Worst case we just take you with us when we leave. It's not like your Uncle and Aunt can do anything against Thorfinn and Euphemia."

* * *

Harry held out his hand, like so many times over the past hour. "Lord Harry Potter of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, pleased to meet you."

Tomasha shook his hand. "Well done. You need to put a little more confidence into the words, but you're getting there. We'll work on your bearing as well. And remember, only introduce yourself this way to other nobles. If you introduce yourself like that to a muggleborn, they'll just be very confused."

"What's bearing?" Harry asked, confused.

"The way you stand, how you hold your arms, things like that. It's very important if you want other nobles to take you seriously. If you ignore such things they'll look down on you and probably annoy you for no other reason than that they can. And no one is going to keep them from doing it, because everyone will agree with them that you're being rude."

Harry looked scared at that.

"Don't worry, you have four years to learn everything. Most pureblood educations start at either age six or seven, so you're not behind."

"But I don't have anyone to teach me."

"I've been teaching you, right?"

"But surely you can't teach me everything! You just said most educations start at six or seven, that means you've had a year yourself at most."

She smiled. "It'll be fine, Harry. I can teach you what I know, and if that's not enough, we can ask Thorfinn for help."

"Do I really have to know everything?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling unsure if he even wanted to learn all this… fuss.

"If you don't want people at Hogwarts to laugh at you, yes. You're from a noble family, Harry, and in fact you _are_ already a Lord. With how famous you are, you could become one of the most important people in Magical Britain by the time you leave Hogwarts, but if you don't act as a Lord at Hogwarts, no one would take you seriously. In the magical world, knowing how to properly act is just as important as knowing mathematics or English is for muggles."

Though Harry had heard everything Tomasha had said, his thoughts had, at the same time, gone on a different track once she mentioned people laughing at him.

"Will you go to the local primary school too, or are you home-schooled or something?" Harry's first year at school – last year – hadn't been very enjoyable for him, with the other children picking on him, led of course by Dudley and the teachers that always looked the other way.

For a moment, Tomasha looked surprised at the sudden change in subject before she gathered herself. "We'll be there, yes. Anyway, I wanted to ask Euphemia a few things, perhaps we can see each other again tomorrow? You should know occlumency too."

"What's occlumency?" Harry asked, the question – for the moment – overriding his reluctance to leave and head back to Privet Drive 4.

"It's a way to order your mind," Tomasha said. "It makes it easier to remember things, or to learn new things, stuff like that. It also helps against people who try to look into your thoughts, some wizards and witches can do that. All children from noble families learn it, and if you don't know it at Hogwarts you're at a disadvantage."

"Isn't that unfair for the muggleborns?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tomasha said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

"Uh, bye."

* * *

Harry didn't know what the paste was that Tomasha had found, but it burned like hot coals on his skin, and he barely stopped himself from crying out in pain, only thanks to the experience he had from the Dursleys, who wanted him to remain silent even when he was being punished.

"That hurts," he instead ground out through his teeth.

"I know," Tomasha soothed. "It's the only thing I could find that helps with scars. The pain should become less once I've finished, right?"

Harry nodded mutely. As soon as she'd stopped rubbing the paste into the crisscross scars, it had started to hurt less.

"What about the scar on my forehead?" Harry asked.

"Won't work," Tomasha said. "It's a curse scar, they're really hard to remove. Besides, everyone knows you have it, if we'd remove it you can bet the followers of Voldemort would claim you're an imposter to get rid of you."

Harry almost forgot about the pain. "Get rid of me?" he asked, scared.

"You defeated a Dark Lord with a lot of followers, Harry. A lot of people don't like you. There's also a lot of people that see you as a hero, though."

"What about you?"

"I hope you're my friend, right?"

Harry nodded. Even after almost a month, the idea of having a friend – or two, really – was still a strange one. Tomasha shifted to the other pastes she'd used before, for bruises, wounds and more.

"What about before you knew me?" Harry asked as she was working. She froze for a moment before continuing, but remained silent several seconds longer.

Finally, she said, "I hoped we could become friends one day, but I also thought we might never meet, because Thorfinn and Euphemia first wanted to send me and Delph to Durmstrang, which is in central Europe. I'm happy they changed their mind. And even happier we happened to buy a place so close to where you live. I can't imagine how people would react if you would've come to Hogwarts knowing nothing of noble traditions and everything."

Harry smiled weakly. "I'm happy you moved here, too." He didn't understand why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia let him go over to Tomasha and Delphini's house so often, but he wasn't going to draw their attention to it any more than needed. Besides, when school started he could see them every day and there was nothing Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could do about it. He was still a little scared that they'd leave him when he got bullied, but the spark of hope that things would get better couldn't be extinguished.

Tomasha continued applying the paste in silence for a few more minutes. Finally, she gave Harry his healing potion for the day. He drank it and then immediately put his shirt on again. Despite how often they'd done this by now, he was still worried Delphini or one of the Rowles would walk in and find out about the beatings.

Harry took a sitting position on the couch, and Tomasha pulled over a chair to sit opposite him.

"Let's get started on your occlumency. Occlumency is actual, real magic, much like what we'll learn at Hogwarts, but doesn't require a wand, which is the reason we can already learn it."

Harry couldn't help a large grin appearing on his face. "Real magic?"

"Real magic. It's also something that's extremely hard to learn by yourself, but I can help you with it. Do you know what legilimency is?"

Harry shook his head.

"It's… it's not quite the opposite of occlumency, but it's close. Occlumency does a lot of things, like ordering your mind, and one of the things it also does is shield your mind from people trying to look into it, and this looking into other people's minds is legilimency."

"Like mind reading?" Harry asked, a little confused and worried about people reading his mind – everyone could see what happened at the Dursleys!

"Kind of," Tomasha said, "but it's much harder than what muggles imagine when they talk about mind reading. The easiest way to learn occlumency is by having someone who knows legilimency – like me – use it on you and help you build up your so-called mindscape. A mindscape is the way you order your mind to remember things and keep out other people. Once you have a basic mindscape built, it becomes much easier to do the rest yourself, and that way you can keep me out as well, even though I helped you build the first part."

Harry was far too busy worrying about other things to give Tomasha's legilimency abilities a second thought. "You're going to read my mind?"

Tomasha nodded. "Everyone who wants to learn occlumency has to allow a legilimens into their mind. It's why most noble families teach it from parent to child, or else hire a special teachers who they can trust with the secrets from their family. If you want to, we can wait a bit longer, so you can think about it a little more, but if you don't learn occlumency, you'll barely be able to pass the exams at Hogwarts, and you'll have to spend almost all your time studying for that. You also won't be able to defend yourself against other people reading your mind. Just think to yourself, is there much that I don't know yet about you, that you don't want me to know either? And of course, I promise you that I won't tell anyone anything I learn, just like I didn't tell anyone about your… injuries."

Harry thought it over. He did not fancy the idea of anyone reading his mind and finding out things he did not want them to know. However, if he did not learn occlumency, anyone could do that. If he _would_ learn occlumency… Tomasha would probably find out more than those people would, but she would be the only one. On top of that, his biggest secret was the beatings (and 'accidents', as he had always called what he now knew to be accidental magic), and she already knew about them. That made the choice pretty easy.

"How does it work?"

"First, we have to look each other in the eye. Then, I will use subtle legilimency to get into your mind. Right now, your mind will just be an unorganized mess of thoughts and memories. When I am in your mind, I can then help you learn to recognize how your mind is structured, after which you can start changing the structure around. That will help you remember things, control your emotions, think logically, and so on. I'll also teach you how to build protections, which is what will help you against legilimency attacks, because they have to navigate through your mindscape. Ready?"

Harry nodded, maintaining eye contact.

Tomasha remained silent for a few seconds, gazing intently. She muttered a few things, too soft for Harry to make out, then spoke up. "I'm in your head now. If you hadn't noticed that yet, don't worry, that's normal. Right now I'm just going with the flow, meaning I only know what you are thinking, and I take quick looks at things in your mind near the surface. For example, you're _almost_ consciously wondering where Delphini is – she's tagged along with Euphemia to get school supplies.

"If someone is intruding in the way I am right now, they can only find your secrets if you think of them, or almost think of them. If you think of other things, they won't discover anything. However, the dangerous thing is that they can subtly direct your thoughts."

Harry's mind suddenly went back to when he first met Tomasha, while he had been working in the garden. He'd worked so much in the garden during those weeks, and sometime in March Aunt Petunia had told him exactly how she wanted everything ordered, because even something natural like a garden had to be meticulously planned in Little Whinging. Around that time Aunt Marge – horrible Aunt Marge – had also visited, and had complimented Aunt Petunia on how clean the house looked, which was something else Harry had done. And of course, Aunt Marge had taken along that horrible dog, Ripper, which had chased Harry through the house until he'd ended up in the corner and had been bitten.

"Did you notice how I was redirecting your thoughts?" Tomasha asked, bringing Harry back to the present. "If I would just plow through your mind for your worst memories, you would notice it immediately, and you would unconsciously try to expel me from your mind. Instead, I found a thought you could logically think of, and then took a thought associated with a negative emotion every time, until I ended up with the memory of that dog."

Harry blushed at being manipulated so easily.

"Oh, don't feel bad about it. You haven't had any training yet, of course you can't stop me. Now, let's get started. I'll be keeping your thoughts focused on one thing, then suddenly switch to another thing, and you need to pay attention to how I switch."

Harry found himself thinking back to when he was working in the garden that same morning, the morning he first met Tomasha. More specifically, he was thinking of a flower he'd spent several seconds looking at, and tried to remember every detail of the flower. Unbiddenly, his thoughts changed, going to that weed he'd had trouble pulling out and got dirt on his clothes for, just moments before meeting Tomasha.

"Did you notice the switch? At least now when you are thinking about it?"

Harry nodded. "It was very sudden."

"Good. Again."

They repeated the same process at least a dozen times, taking a new memory on every attempt. Tomasha released eye contact for a moment.

"I'm now completely out of your mind to make sure there's no lingering influence from me in your thoughts. In a few moments, I'll enter again, but I'll only watch. I want you to keep your focus on the same memory, just like I did for you until now, and then I will force you onto a different memory."

They locked eyes again.

Harry thought of the board of the stairs, which he could see when lying on his back in his cupboard – when it wasn't dark in the hallway at least. He tried to imagine every detail, every irregularity, when suddenly his thoughts went to the sound of the lock on the cupboard.

"I noticed that," Harry said.

Tomasha simply urged him on. They repeated this exercise even more times than the first one before Tomasha was content. When they finally finished, Euphemia had returned, and Tomasha once again convinced her to have Harry stay for dinner, like she often did. After that, Harry finally went home, tired but with a slightly better understanding of how his mind worked.

* * *

**UPDATE 14/10/2019: I've had a case of writer's block, but am slowly getting over it, and hope to get some writing done again today. Goal is to get a new chapter out within a week or so, but I can't make any promises. While reading through everything to get back into the right mindset I also noticed an ambiguous sentence that could imply all Most Ancient Houses are also Noble, when it is supposed to say that most of the Ancient Houses are noble. That has now been updated to avoid any misconceptions.**


	3. 1-2: Mindscape

**AN: So I'm finally back. Got stuck with a writer's block again. Let me just clear this up right now for the future: my writer's block might return, in which case I'll unexpectedly stop updating again. However, rest ensured I will come back, and will not abandon this story. I know with 100% certainty that I will never stop writing simply because I **_**cannot**_** stop writing (in the long term), and I will continue to prioritize this story over anything else I write except **_**maybe**_** an original work (which is currently in early outlining phase and it may very well be another two years before I actually get it off the ground at all). Hope you like this chapter. As you can see I'm starting to accelerate the timeline, the next chapter (Chapter 3) will be the last to play pre-canon.**

**AN: Also, I'm not going to delay the update for this, but I'm feeling a little unsure if I'm happy with the final scene of the chapter. I may decide to change it up at some point between now and when I release Chapter 3. If I do so, I will make sure to mention it in next chapter's AN.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Mindscape**

* * *

Monday was the least favorite day of Harry's week – and, in this case, it would be his least favorite day of the last few months. After all, it meant he had to go back to school after a weekend of only having to do chores, back to avoiding Dudley and his friends, back to pleasing the hurried Dursleys, and back to purposefully answering test questions wrong if he didn't want to receive even more beatings.

The walk to school was not even ten minutes. That was of course far too long for Dudley, so he was brought by car while Harry had to walk. Personally, he didn't mind, as it allowed him to spy out his approach to the school to make sure he could get in view of the teachers before he was spotted. Even if they always believed Dudley over him, the teachers still had eyes, so Dudley and his friends couldn't beat up Harry when the teachers were around.

Of course, this time around everything went a little different. When he left the house, Tomasha and Delphini were already waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Hi," Tomasha greeted enthusiastically.

"Potter," Delphini said.

"Hi," Harry said, smiling to both of them. The girls started walking as soon as he was with them, and together they made their way towards the school.

"How is your occlumency doing?" Tomasha asked.

Harry made a face at her immediately asking after his practicing.

"I've done the focusing exercises," he replied. Tomasha had told him to focus himself on one thought or memory for as long as he could, and then when he got distracted by something else, focus on that next thing as long as he could, as well as try and determine why the thoughts were related if it was not immediately obvious.

"Good," she said with a small smile. "We'll see when we can continue with the exercises. Soon you should be able to understand your own mind, and then you can start on the real occlumency, building a mindscape and everything."

Harry nodded, looking around warily for a potential ambush.

"I still don't get why we should go to a muggle school," Delphini muttered.

"Because people would ask questions if we don't go to school," Tomasha immediately replied. This point had come up twice when Harry had been around, and probably a few more times when he hadn't been.

"So just confound or obliviate them," Delphini said.

"We can't just obliviate every muggle," Tomasha countered.

"Why not? They're muggles."

Tomasha sighed quietly. So quietly Harry doubted Delphini – who was walking to the other side of him – could hear it.

"We live in a muggle town, Delph. That means we have to do some things differently."

"So why did we move here? Tutshill was just fine! And if we had to move we could've moved to Godric's Hollow, or Appleby, or London, there's plenty of magical communities."

"But we didn't," Tomasha said. "We live in Little Whinging, which is a muggle town, so we have to act like muggles. Also, keep your voice down or they'll hear us."

Delphini made a face but didn't argue further.

Spotting Piers Polkiss in the distance, Harry grabbed each girl by an arm, stopping them.

"What is it, Potter?"

"That's Piers over there," Harry said quietly. "Have to make sure he won't see us."

Delphini frowned. "Why not?"

"He's waiting for me," Harry said. "To try and catch me so Dudley and his friends can beat me up. If we go left here we can go in between the houses and climb over the fence to the schoolyard, so that they can't get to us before we're too close to the teachers."

Tomasha pulled her arm loose and continued walking. "I'd like to see them try." Delphini followed – Harry really didn't stand a chance at restraining her if she didn't want to be restrained.

"No! Wait!" Harry cried, trying to stop them. "They'll just beat you too! They beat anyone who talks to me."

"Harry, we're magical, they're not," Tomasha said. "We'll be fine."

"But I can't do magic yet!"

"We'll be fine," Tomasha said again.

Harry followed them, vaguely hoping that Dudley and his friends would focus on Harry and not the twins if he was there. Piers saw him coming and alerted the others. Together, the group walked up to Harry, led – as always – by Dudley.

"Who are you?" Dudley asked aggressively, addressing Tomasha.

"Tomasha Riddle, and that's my sister Delphini. You're Harry's stupid cousin, right?"

Panic rose up in Harry. They were three against four, with small, weak Harry and two girls on their side and only heavy boys on the other side. Dudley, of course, got angry at the insult, balling his fist.

"I got higher marks than him all last year!"

Because, Harry thought to himself, I always make sure I don't answer the questions right because I get a beating if I get a higher score than you.

Tomasha snorted. "One look at you and it's obvious the only reason you don't have to repeat everything is because you're cheating."

Dudley took a step forward, swinging at Tomasha's face, but he stumbled and planted his nose onto the pavement while she calmly took a step back.

"Seven and you still haven't learned how to walk?"

Suddenly, a lot of things happened very quickly. Harry dodged Piers' fist by stepping back, then dodged again by ducking. When Piers tried to hit Harry for a third time, he too lost his balance and actually fell on Dudley, who hadn't gotten up yet. In the meanwhile, Tomasha had avoided another of the boys, while Delphini planted her elbow in the third boy's face before kicking the one going after Tomasha in his private parts.

"§That's pathetic,§" Tomasha said derisively. "§And you're supposed to be bullies?§"

Meanwhile, Harry was panicking.

"§They'll tell the teachers!§" he said, grateful for Tomasha's reminder that they spoke a language no one else could understand. "§They always lie if they get hurt.§"

Tomasha just scoffed. "§The teachers won't believe them.§"

"W-what's that?" Dudley asked from the ground.

"None of your concern," Tomasha said.

Piers finally regained some confidence. "We'll tell the teachers," he said as he stood up.

Tomasha looked at him as if he was stupid – which was justified, really. "Yes, as if that is going to work for you. §How about you run away now?§" She lunged toward him, a threatening expression on her face, and the boy reflexively shied back at the unnerving hissing sounds coming out of Tomasha's mouth.

Perhaps the meaning of the words had come through on some instinctual level, because Dudley stood up and ran, together with the other three.

"§Come on,§" Tomasha said. "§We need to make sure we're there when they go to the teachers so they can't lie.§"

"§It doesn't matter, the teachers never believed me.§"

"§They'll believe me.§"

They followed the other three at a short distance and found their way to Miss Graham, last grade's teacher, at about the same time.

"Harry and those two girls with him just attacked us!" Dudley loudly complained, pointing in their direction.

"That's not true," Tomasha refuted immediately, looking the teacher straight in the eye – unlike Harry, who could barely stop himself from either looking at the ground in front of him or looking for an escape route. "They were waiting for us on our way to the school and tried to hit us. Dudley and Piers stumbled while they were trying to hit us and Delph was just holding her arms up to protect herself when that boy—" she pointed towards the boy with the bleeding nose "—tried to hit her and she accidentally hit him with her elbow, then he—" she pointed to the fourth boy "—tried to kick Delph so she brought her leg up to defend herself and she can't help it that she hit him!"

That… wasn't what had happened. Delphini had definitely hit them on purpose, and Harry had his suspicions about Tomasha as well. However, he remained silent, praying against better judgement that the teacher would believe Tomasha.

Miss Graham sighed. "Dudley, I had expected better of you. I know you and your cousin do not always get along well, and that he has not always been nice to you in the past, but you shouldn't stoop to his level. You'll have to write lines, and the other three of you as well. And… you are the new children right, the Riddles?"

Tomasha nodded. "I'm Tomasha, this is Delphini."

Miss Graham smiled at her. "Thanks for being honest with me, Tomasha, and I'm sorry your first day at school had to start like this. I also hope you'll be a good influence on Harry here."

Tomasha smiled back. "We've seen each other quite a bit over the summer, I like him. And I think Delph does too."

Delphini just gave the both of them a bland look.

"Welcome to the school, Delphini. And you too of course, Tomasha. Now, you four, with me."

The moment Miss Graham was out of hearing range, Harry turned towards Tomasha.

"Why did you lie?"

"Because I didn't want to get Delphini in trouble. And besides, it's not like _we_ picked the fight, they did."

"I also don't believe Dudley and Piers both just tripped."

"I may have been practicing controlling my magic," Tomasha replied quietly. "Perhaps I can teach you at some point."

"Don't you need a wand for that?" Harry asked.

"It's much easier with a wand, but where do you think accidental magic comes from? If you're patient, you can learn how to use it. That's what people did before wands existed. Come on, we shouldn't be late on our first day."

* * *

During the break, Tomasha pulled Harry aside while Delphini was chatting with some other girls.

"§What Dudley said about grades, is that true?§" she asked in a low tone that others might mistake for normal whispering.

Harry looked at the ground in front of his feet.

"§So it is,§" Tomasha correctly concluded. "§Why? I know you're much smarter than he is.§"

"§When… when we first got a marked test, and I had higher marks than him, Uncle Vernon punished me for cheating,§" Harry said quietly. "§If I give wrong answers he doesn't think that I'm cheating.§"

"§Bastard§," Tomasha muttered in a tone Harry could hardly make out. "§Why don't you keep doing that and then we'll also make the test together when we're home and you do try your best and we see what your real mark would be?§"

"§But then we need someone who knows all the answers.§"

"§Worst case we can look them up or ask Euphemia.§"

Harry nodded hesitantly.

"Well come on, let's meet those girls Delph is talking to."

* * *

Harry wasn't sure why Tomasha always managed to convince Aunt Petunia to let him come along to play, even if he had asked five minutes earlier if he could and she'd said no. However, he wasn't going to complain, so on the Saturday after the first – and in Harry's opinion best ever – week of school, he followed her along to her home.

"Shall we work on your occlumency?" she asked as Harry closed the door behind him.

"Again?" he asked. Not that he didn't want to learn it, but… "I kinda want to play Exploding Snap."

"Maybe we can do that after?" she offered.

"Okay." He could live with that. "Where's Delphini by the way?"

"Euphemia decided to give her additional occlumency lessons because she's behind on me. Come."

They made their way to Tomasha's bedroom and sat on her bed, facing each other, legs crossed underneath them.

"Have you continued doing the focusing exercises every day?"

"Yes."

"Good. Focus on one thought. Maintain eye contact, of course."

Harry focused his thoughts on yesterday's language class, and the grammar rule they had learned. His thoughts tried to drift to Tomasha – who had sat beside him – but he focused on the rule as long as he could. Slowly, he drifted towards Tomasha, then suddenly he found himself able to jerk back to the rule.

"Very good, you're resisting my attempt to change your focus. Keep it up."

They went back and forth like that for about half an hour.

"You're noticing the back and forth between thoughts, aren't you?"

Harry nodded.

"Pay attention to that. No need to focus on one thing now."

He suddenly thought of Delphini – more specifically, how Delphini had not believed who he was at first. Then, his mind went to the Parseltongue, and from there to the run-in with Dudley and his friends, to Delphini and how she had handled herself there, and back to when he first met her.

"Notice the circle?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to go through your thoughts and just make a lot of circles like that, which will help you learn your way around your mind."

She continued with that for almost an hour before Delphini walked in.

"It's lunch time."

"Oh," Tomasha said, looking up in surprise. "Didn't realize it was that late already. Let's go."

They made their way downstairs to the dining table, which was already set, and Euphemia was just pouring the last glasses of juice. Harry took his usual seat – the family had a set ordering of who sat where, and with Harry staying over for lunch or dinner at least five times a week he had been given his own spot – and picked a slice of bread, musing if he wanted cheese or jam on it.

He'd never admit it, but the thing he liked most about being friends with Tomasha and Delphini might just be that he got to eat his fill whenever he was over, which was a whole lot better than the always fickle Dursleys that even if they were in a good mood only left him a meager portion. In fact, even though it had only been a little over a month since he'd met Tomasha that day in the garden he was pretty sure he was already growing faster, and he definitely wasn't quite as skinny as before anymore.

"How is your occlumency coming along, Harry?" Euphemia asked.

She was nice too, Harry had decided. At first she'd seemed a little suspicious of him, but that had disappeared quickly, and though she remained a little formal at times – which Tomasha said was because he was a Lord – she always included him in conversations and seemed determined to allow him everything she allowed Delphini. Harry wasn't sure if she'd allow everything she allowed Tomasha though, but then if there was one thing he had noticed, it was that Tomasha was very mature, so it made sense she was allowed more.

"It's going well," Harry replied. "Tomasha was just teaching me how my thoughts are connected."

"Very good," Euphemia praised. "That's nice progress to make in this little time. Perhaps you can start working on your mindscape by next month or the month after."

"Why is Tomasha teaching Potter?" Delphini asked.

"Because she wanted to and because she's ahead in her own occlumency," Euphemia said.

"But where did she learn legilimency?"

"You don't need to know that much legilimency to teach someone occlumency," Tomasha said. "Just a few hours of practice is enough. You just need to be able to manipulate someone's thoughts slightly, it doesn't even have to go unnoticed."

"I don't think I could do it in just a few hours," Delphini refuted.

"Being good at occlumency helps."

"Just how far along _is_ your occlumency?" Delphini asked. "Euphemia always spends much more time on me even if we're learning together."

"I don't exactly want to give a tour of my mindscape, you know."

"Tomasha is right," Euphemia reprimanded. "It's rude to pry into people's occlumency or legilimency skills, Delphini. And you're also excluding Harry from the conversation. Did you three like the first week of school?"

"It's a waste of time," Delphini said, still in a mood to complain.

"It was great!" Harry replied. "I've never had friends at school before, and Dudley and the others are afraid to do anything after the first day. One time Dudley forgot and I just told him to go away in Parseltongue and you should have seen his face!"

"And at home?"

Harry shrugged. "Still the same." He hoped she wouldn't pry. Luckily, his answer seemed to satisfy her and they ate in silence for a while before conversation resumed on other topics. After lunch, Tomasha wanted to go right back to occlumency practice, but Harry reminded her of her promise to play Exploding Snap, which ended up consuming most of the afternoon. After a brief walk through the neighborhood followed by dinner – which included Thorfinn, who had been away during the day – he went back to the Dursleys to spend the night in his cupboard. With friends out there, and good meals, that situation was not nearly as hopeless as it once had been, even if it was still unwelcome.

* * *

Autumn came and went, and not much changed from the new rhythm, until sometime early November during one of the now regularly scheduled occlumency lessons.

"It's time to start working on your mindscape."

"Really?" Harry exclaimed, excited.

"Really," Tomasha said. "You know how your thoughts are connected, how you change from one thought to another, and so on. Perhaps you even noticed that school became easier already, because it's easier for you to go through your mind for various things. Now, there are two important things to remember. First, you can't build a mindscape all at once. You can't just imagine a castle or something, put all your thoughts in there, and that's it. You have to start small and simple and expand from that. I'll help you with the first bit, and afterwards you can improve on it, change things, and so on. And second, your mindscape is never done. Over time, you'll always add more defenses, add traps, add places to hold your knowledge, and so on.

"However, even with all that, you do need to plan your mindscape out somewhat. Most people use a place they know, a lot of children from noble houses for example use the manors they live in, but I don't think you know of any place that you'd want to use for a mindscape, right?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to spend any more time in my cupboard than needed. Or Privet Drive Four."

"That's what I thought. The alternative is to build a place completely your own, which can even be an advantage. For example, if someone learned occlumency as a teenager, and they would use Hogwarts as the base for their mindscape, then they have really good defense just because Hogwarts is a castle. But at the same time, almost everyone has been to Hogwarts and knows more or less what it's layout looks like, so people would have an easier time navigating it."

"Couldn't you just change it on the inside?" Harry asked.

"Easier said than done. For example, if you used Hogwarts, you'd know where the library is. That's where knowledge is stored, so you'll have to try _really_ hard to put your memories somewhere else than the library. Just because that's the first place you think of. So the first thing you need to do is to figure out what you want your mindscape to look like."

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I haven't seen a lot of places."

"Perhaps you can just start out with a simple room and expand from there. Then you can just design everything on your own. It's harder to do, but if you do it right it's the best mindscape you can have because you can make it exactly the way you want."

Harry nodded along. "Okay, I guess."

He found himself thinking of several related thoughts, and realized Tomasha was redirecting his mind towards them.

"Let's start with this bunch. I will build a wall around them, and you need to try and imagine the same wall and see if you can recognize it."

Harry did as she instructed, trying to 'see' this wall, but failing to do so.

"Can you find it?"

He shook his head.

"Pay attention."

His thoughts were redirected to something else, then back to one of the thoughts Tomasha had said she'd built a wall around. This went back and forth several times, Harry trying to recognize something out of the ordinary.

"I don't notice anything," he finally said.

"That's okay, it can take some time. We just keep going back and forth, you should be able to notice some resistance at some point, that's the wall in between the thoughts."

It took some ten more minutes before Harry first recognized something was off. He remained silent and let Tomasha guide him back and forth several more times.

"I think I feel it."

"Good. Then we're going to repeat it with different thoughts where the wall is located until you recognize them all."

It took the rest of the practice time before Tomasha was satisfied.

* * *

"This time we'll work on you noticing the wall," Tomasha said at the start of the next lesson. "Once you recognize the wall itself without the thoughts, it'll become easier to understand what's inside and outside of it."

It was a strange experience to Harry, to find himself hanging in between two thoughts, but it happened when Tomasha stopped his thoughts at the wall. This, she told him, was part of the actual magic involved in occlumency – a muggle could never be 'in between' two thoughts. She spent more than an hour talking to him about the wall and showing him everything about it. Finally, Harry felt like he was building some sort of picture of a simple brick wall that separated a small number of thoughts from the others. It had no doors or anything, and was by no means impenetrable.

"Well done," Tomasha said when he told her what he imagined. "That means we can start working on the next bit."

They spent some time talking about which thoughts were inside and which thoughts were outside. After a few minutes, Harry started to form a picture of some strange, blurry… locations, more than anything, that signified the thoughts inside the room. Slowly, Tomasha pushed them into certain directions, grouping them in various ways in the corners of the room. Suddenly, Harry felt a slight shift.

"Did you leave the room?" he asked.

"Yes, I did. Very good. I'm now standing outside the wall, just looking at it. That you noticed that means you're getting an idea of location in your mindscape, which is super important to expand on it."

They then spent the rest of the lesson with practice of him pinpointing her location. By the end of it, she was a blurry form much like his thoughts were. To his surprise, he realized he was now such a blurry form as well. The next lesson they continued working on that, and at the end he could recognize Tomasha's long black hair on her form, as well as some very blurry areas of color that were her clothes.

* * *

"Let's go back to the wall," Tomasha said the time after that. "You have some idea of where someone or something is now, so let's build a door into the wall. I could do it for you, but it's better if you start building yourself. For now, just place your hand on the wall and imagine that you're not touching stone, but wood."

He did as she indicated, though his arm was still the same blurry form, and he only had the faintest idea of feeling stone under his palm. Several times, he found himself unable to concentrate anymore and Tomasha gave him various pieces of advice, but eventually one of the bricks – which were less blurry than Tomasha, his thoughts or he himself – turned into wood. It remained red, remained brick-shaped, but it was wood now.

"Now repeat that with this entire part of the wall," Tomasha instructed.

Harry did so, the process soon speeding up significantly. Changing the wood to appropriate colors turned out to be much easier to do, and soon he was – while again following Tomasha's guidance – turning the brick-shaped logs into planks, and finally he turned the entire thing into a door, adding hinges and a doorknob. Last, he opened it, and noticed the sea of drifting thoughts outside more clearly than he had before.

"Good," Tomasha praised. "This is the start of a mindscape. The next thing you need to do is to order your thoughts better, make the room larger, add rooms for different things, and so on. I'll also start teaching you how to add defenses to your mindscape."

* * *

"Can you teach me wandless magic?" Harry asked a few months later, after Tomasha casually summoned a book. It was Easter holidays and Harry was had come over to escape the Dursleys. They were… more unpredictable ever since they had found out Harry knew he was a wizard. At times they'd stay away from him because they were afraid Thorfinn and Euphemia would notice something, yet at other times they were more aggressive. Harry was also pretty sure Dudley didn't know about magic yet.

"It takes a lot of effort," Tomasha said.

"But you've done it. You can help me, right?" He hoped she could. He dearly wanted to learn more magic, and Tomasha had been able to teach him so much in regards to magic and the magical world, so surely she could do this too.

"I can help you out a little. Delph, you want to learn too?"

"Of course!" she said, looking up from the book she'd been reading.

Tomasha threw her book at the bookcase, where it promptly floated neatly to the spot it had standing been before she'd summoned it. Despite himself, Harry felt a twinge of envy.

"The most important thing," Tomasha said, turning towards them, "is that magic is completely based on intent. If you don't _want_ to do something, you'll never do it. You can wave your wand in the correct movement, say the correct incantation, but if you don't want to cast the spell, it won't cast at all. However, the movements and incantations do make spells easier, as does the wand itself, which means wandless magic is much harder to use.

"But that doesn't mean you can't use it. In fact, intent just becomes much more important. You need to channel the intent so strongly that your magic goes along with it and does what you want it to do. That's why accidental magic mostly happens when you're very emotional, though sometimes when accidental magic happens it's also just a release where magic does the first thing it can do.

"Why don't you start with trying to summon the book I just summoned? Think of a time where you made something move, and just try to _want_ the book to come to you. It's kind of like rearranging something in your mindscape without touching it."

Harry immediately started staring at the book, trying to will it to him, stretching his hand out towards it.

"You don't need to make any movement with you hand," Tomasha spoke up, "but it can make it easier to focus."

Harry was staring for a full minute before his concentration was suddenly violently broken. "What was that?" he asked, startled.

"A very weak wandless stinging hex," Tomasha said. "Try to recognize when I fire them, it helps you feel magic, which makes it easier to focus the intent. Remember, even though it sounds easy, wandless magic is actually pretty hard. I'd be surprised if either of you summons the book before the holidays are over."

Harry went back to staring at the book. At times, either he or Delphini gave a startled yelp as Tomasha fired off another stinging hex, though thankfully they didn't hurt for more than a moment. It was perhaps an hour or so before Harry just found himself too frustrated at his lack of progress and went back to reading, quickly followed by Delphini. He'd try again tomorrow.


	4. 1-3: Learning

**AN: So someone mentioned in a review that Tomasha seems to be somewhat of a Mary Sue. If it weren't for Harry not knowing the term, I bet he'd agree. And that's all I'll say on the matter for now.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Learning**

* * *

"Lord Arthur Weasley is the head of the Ancient House of Weasley, meaning they have one vote in the Wizengamot," Harry recited from memory.

"Correct," Tomasha said. "Last one. Zabini."

"Lady Melita Zabini is the head of the Noble House of Zabini, meaning they have one vote in the Wizengamot."

"That's all of them," Tomasha said with a smile.

Harry pumped his fist in the air. "Yes!" For the first time, he'd gotten the Lord or Lady of all forty-one Noble or Ancient Houses and their voting power correct – at least, when quizzed in alphabetical order.

Tomasha placed the book she'd been reading the names from next to her on the couch.

"So, what's the political affiliation of the Weasley family?"

"Strong Dumbledore supporters," Harry replied. "Little political power due to lack of money for status or bribes, in practice mostly an extra vote for Dumbledore in the Wizengamot, and Lord Weasley is Dumbledore's expert on muggles."

"Correct again," Tomasha confirmed by heart. "Greengrass?"

"Traditionalist, but they were opposed to Voldemort's methods and his views on muggles and muggleborns, meaning they maintained a neutral stance during the war. They have a strong hold on international trade which grants them enough wealth to back up their neutrality, but do not have significant old money."

"Very good. Longbottom?"

"Strong Dumbledore supporters and the only currently active Most Noble and Most Ancient House, meaning they are the only House with five votes. Unlike some Dumbledore supporters, Regent Longbottom will oppose him in debate if she disagrees with him."

They continued on with a bunch more Houses. Then:

"Slytherin?"

"They don't exist anymore," Harry said.

"Doesn't mean no one has a claim."

"I didn't learn about them!"

"But what do you know about them? You never learned about Slytherin but you did hear a few things about them at one point."

Oh. So this was now an occlumency lesson, apparently.

Harry receded into his mind, into the mindscape he'd built over the last half year. If you'd try to legilimize Harry, you'd first encounter a wall made out of steel, and you'd have to find the seamlessly fitting door and push it inwards to enter Harry's mindscape itself, or else blast your way through the wall – something that would be sure to warn Harry someone was trying to enter his mind.

Then, you would find yourself standing on a path leading straight ahead, with various cottages on either side, a little removed from the path itself. Most of those were exact copies of each other, filled with a few usual trinkets you'd find in a cottage but not appearing lived in. Touching even one of those trinkets would give a slight warning signal to Harry – not enough that he'd immediately notice it, due to the limitations occlumency had, but enough to put him sightly on guard. If you'd touch enough trinkets, he'd eventually figure out someone was trying to enter his mind. However, the seventh house on the left contained a hidden stairway under the carpet.

This stairway descended into nothing but air, but once you'd take a few steps down and reach a place completely underground, you would have to jump off the stairway, placing your feet instead on the ceiling and flipping the world upside down. Then, you'd find yourself in a small room with walls on all sides. The wall on the right, however, was an illusion, and if you'd step through it you'd find yourself in the building that was Harry's mindscape.

Of course, Harry being the owner and tenant of his mindscape, could skip all that and simply start at this point. So he made his way through the corridor to the left, then went up the stairs, and picked the fourth room on the left, where he stored every memory related to noble houses. Memories, in Harry's mind, were contained in small glass spheres, a few centimeter in diameter each. He made his way to the cabinet and quickly perused the shelves – as owner of the memories, even the barest touch allowed him to remember what it was about.

The memories were sorted by date – or at least as much as Harry could date them – and it took him a few moments before he reached the very first memory he had regarding noble houses. He closed his hand around the sphere, and the knowledge immediately welled up in his mind. Though this method of remembering was not perfect recall, it wasn't too far off. Before leaving his mindscape, he also made the mental note for himself to tag noble house memories by the houses they pertained to for quicker searching in the future.

His attention focused back on Tomasha. Due to the difference in time perception in the outside world and in a mindscape, he knew he had needed only a few seconds to find the answer.

"Voldemort has claim to the House of Slytherin, but lacks the support to do so," Harry said. "Also, the House has a bad reputation, I am assuming because of it's association with Voldemort and the blood purity movement."

The memory continued playing through Harry's mind as Tomasha confirmed his answer was correct. At the time, he hadn't noticed anything odd, but similar to how a occlumency improved recall, it also improved perception, rational thought, and so on. People often summarized it as saying children who knew occlumency thought more like adults, though that was only an approximation of the truth. Whatever the case, his improved perception allowed Harry to spot something strange. Tomasha had said that Voldemort could also trace his lineage back to the Peverell House, and could do so through the Gaunt line, which was also the line that gave him the claim on Slytherin. Delphini had clearly thought that important for some reason, but Tomasha had waved it off immediately, cutting her sister off in a way that was a little out of character.

Harry went back into his mindscape, this time took the eighth room on the right in the same corridor, opened a hidden door in that room, and set a copy of the Slytherin memory aside in the cramped little closet he found himself in. There were perhaps a dozen more memories – all little things that he'd noticed about his friend that were just a little strange.

* * *

Halfway through its arc, Harry summoned the ball towards him, easily catching it in his hand. He held it up and banished it away, for Delphini to summon it towards her a moment later. She again sent the ball away, and Harry pulled it towards him again.

Tomasha, Harry had learned, was a firm believer in repetitive practice. Which was of course why he and Delphini had now spent almost an hour bouncing the fluffy thing back and forth, _after_ having proven to Tomasha they could reliably summon and banish objects.

"Okay, that's enough," Tomasha finally said. Harry effortlessly caught the ball one last time. "Summoning and banishing are some of the easiest spells to do wordless and wandless because they're so elementary. Almost all other spells are harder. Perhaps you want to try to learn the stunning hex?"

"You know it?" Delphini asked dubiously.

"I do," Tomasha said. "And the revitalization charm, so I can also counter it."

"Of course you do," Delphini said, rolling her eyes.

Harry wisely refrained from commenting.

"The basis of the spell is still the intent," Tomasha explained. "With summoning and banishing, the intent is to move an object. With a stunner, the intent is instead to make someone lose consciousness. Without other negative effects, of course. Stunners are actually significantly harder to do without a wand than with one, as you need to cast from your fingers instead. With a wand, the intent is safely stored within the wand and then released to wherever the wand is pointing. Without one, you have to store the intent in yourself instead. If you don't do that right, you'll knock yourself out."

Suddenly, she fired a stinging hex at Harry, who immediately shifted out of the path of the spell. "You both know how to feel magic," Tomasha continued, "and that's the first part. You need to feel the magic that you have access to, that you have control over, and you need to _give_ that magic the intent of stunning."

As if feeling your own magic wasn't hard enough yet. Harry had managed to do so briefly at times, mostly when he was feeling very anxious about a possible stinging hex coming his way, but he'd never gotten anything more than a flash.

"Do all magical children know this before they go to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Most don't," Tomasha said. "You don't need to feel your magic if you have a wand, just the incantation, wand movement and intent are enough."

"How do you know all these things?" Delphini asked.

"I read," Tomasha shrugged. She shot a stinging hex at her sister, who yelped. "Get to it."

One glare later, Delphini complied, and so did Harry, wary of more 'encouragement'.

* * *

Harry flinched as Tomasha smeared the paste over one of the bruises on his back. He hadn't expected Dudley to do _this_ bad on last week's test, and had accidentally scored a higher mark. And that had earned him a beating for cheating.

Of course, even the beatings had changed – from Harry's side at least, his uncle still hit the same. In the past, he had felt hopelessness, hadn't seen a way out and had just endured it because that was what he did. Now, he instead retreated in his mindscape as far as he could, trying to block out the pain, and reminding himself that Tomasha would come and get him soon – as always when there was a reason to believe Harry would receive a beating – and tend to his bruises.

"I bet he normally cheats and couldn't because we changed the seat ordering," Tomasha said, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry gave a brief chuckle, only to wince at his aching side the next moment. "Maybe. Who would he cheat off though?" He started thinking about the places they had in class.

"I don't know," Tomasha said. "Maybe he's just gotten even more stupid. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, either." Her hand lifted from his back. "That should be all. You're not going to stop learning, are you?"

Harry sat up and caught the shirt she threw. "I won't," he replied as he put it on. "It's just a one-time thing, really. Normally I can easily guess how well he does. And besides, I can get almost perfect scores just by listening in class with the occlumency."

"Don't forget to read as well," Tomasha replied. "It won't be so easy at Hogwarts."

"Why not?" Harry asked, straightening his glasses.

"There's a lot of information that you just need to look up and everything at Hogwarts. Not to mention that almost every class has a major practical part, which just isn't the case at school here."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Do you know how well Delph is doing in class?" he asked.

"High marks as well. It's almost hard not to, at a muggle elementary school with occlumency. Even you have had more than a year training now."

"Maybe one day I'll catch up to you," Harry replied.

Tomasha laughed. "That's a nice goal. I think you can do it, Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Both your parents had top marks in their year, and your mother probably didn't even know a lot of occlumency." That was something they had learned when looking up more information about Harry's parents, as he was so curious about them. "Do you really think you wouldn't be able to achieve something like that too, then?"

Harry blushed slightly. "You're right."

Tomasha smiled. "Why don't we go play for a bit with Delph?"

Harry heartily agreed.

* * *

Learning to cast wandless stunners was a very embarrassing process. In particular once you almost got the hang of it. Time after time Harry seemingly spontaneously fell unconscious, only to be revived by Tomasha moments later. The same held true for Delphini of course, who was practicing just as hard.

But eventually, after almost two months of practicing, they succeeded. The first time Harry did _not_ knock himself out and instead shot a beam of red light from his fingers to connect with Delphini and take her out instead, he jumped up from the couch he'd been sitting on and cheered.

Tomasha, of course, was the responsible one and cast the revival spell at her twin before congratulating Harry. And Delphini, also true to her nature, grumbled about the experience and Harry beating her to this milestone. Still, the added impetus this gave meant that she managed the spell herself just days later.

In the months after, Tomasha started training their wandless protego shields, and once they had a grasp of that spell, Tomasha proposed holding a duel in the garden.

"Outside?" Delphini exclaimed. "It's the middle of winter! There's _snow_!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the predictable reaction.

"It's not funny!" Delphini insisted.

"Sorry," Harry said, using his occlumency to compose himself. "You do have a point." He eyed Tomasha warily.

Said girl tilted her head slightly. "If I'd have proposed a snowball fight the both of you would've been outside already."

Harry hated how true that argument was. Considering Delphini's obvious unsuccessful attempts at coming up with a counter, it was the same for her.

"Come on!" Tomasha said. "Let's go. We can ask Euphemia for hot chocolate after."

Well… if she put it that way… Harry rose and followed her, Delphini directly behind him. When Tomasha stepped into the hall, Delphini grabbed Harry's arm and held him back.

"Once we get outside, let's put some snow in her neck," she whispered quietly.

Harry was about to tell her that would be mean, but changed his mind when he remembered how cold it had felt when he'd made the short trip from the Dursleys to here. He nodded. "I'll distract her." Moments later they stepped into the hall, where Tomasha was busy outfitting herself for the weather. Harry and Delphini followed her example, and it seemed Tomasha had no idea anything was going on.

Harry made sure to be the first to step outside, Tomasha behind him and Delphini last.

"Back garden?" Harry asked. That seemed the most logical, as the back garden had high fences that would stop the neighbors from looking in.

"Yes," Tomasha agreed.

Harry led the way towards the back, deliberately not glancing over his shoulder. When they were there, he quickly scooped some snow off the ground and turned, throwing the makeshift ball in the same move. Despite the hurry, it was well-aimed and hit Tomasha square in the chest.

For a moment, she seemed completely shocked, then a look appeared on her face that actually made Harry take a step back in fear of – very cold – retribution, but just when she bent down to make a snowball of her own Delphini deposited two full hands of snow in her neck, rubbing it in as Tomasha shrieked.

Tomasha turned around as soon as she regained her wits, sending a wandless stinging hex at her sister. However, after months of conditioning, Delphini immediately noticed the release of magic and got her shield up in time to block it.

Not wasting any time, Harry shot a stunner at Tomasha, but she turned immediately, absorbing the spell with another shield and sending two stunners in quick succession at Harry. He managed to block them, but the second shook the shield heavily as Tomasha again turned, blocking Delphini's stunner.

Harry again sent a stunner, but Tomasha had made her way to one of the fences and easily blocked it, keeping her back to the fence so she could watch both of her adversaries. Harry and Delphini attempted several more stunners, but Tomasha managed to block every single one of them, and got her own stunners off in the meanwhile, forcing the two to cast their shields instead, and after some ten seconds Delphini's shield broke and she went down, followed by Harry quickly after.

Harry woke up lying in the snow to Tomasha's revitalization charm. He quickly got to his feet to minimize the contact with said snow, as Tomasha moved to wake Delphini. It seemed the snow had disappeared from Tomasha's neck, as well. Without saying a word, Tomasha stepped back to the fence, leaning against it with her arms crossed. Once she had both their attention, she spoke.

"What would you have done if you'd hit me with one of your stunners?"

Oops.

Harry shared a guilty look with Delphini.

"We'd have brought you inside?" he offered weakly.

"And you wouldn't have continued fighting each other?"

"Uh…"

"Would you have removed the snow from my clothes to make sure I wouldn't get colder? What about how wet my pants would get if you dragged me through the snow? Euphemia is grocery shopping and won't be back for like half an hour, she couldn't have helped you."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"No more firing stunners at me until you have the revitalization charm down."

Harry nodded meekly.

"Delphini?"

"I won't."

"Good," Tomasha said. "Now, I do believe we have a score to settle."

Delphini didn't realize in time that she was standing under branches with snow on them – and that it could be shaken off with well-aimed banishing charms.

* * *

At the end of the schoolyear, the class was to go on an outing to the forest. Not only was Harry on much better terms with both his schoolmates and the teachers now that Tomasha and Delphini were there to even the scales, but Tomasha had managed to get Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to let Harry go along on the outing – his first time ever! – by saying that she'd ask her guardians about why Harry couldn't go along otherwise. Vernon and Petunia, of course, were immediately scared that they would get involved with more wizards, and let him go along.

Their entire year – two classes of children – was crammed into a bus, which of course meant that the noise approached ridiculous levels, and Harry found himself sitting near the front together with Tomasha, with Delphini on the other side of the aisle on her own. The girl's rather unusual personality (Harry was pretty sure she _still_ hadn't called him by his first name even once) meant she hadn't made any close friends outside of Harry and Tomasha, even though Harry didn't think a lot of people disliked her either. Well, Dudley and his friends – who were of course sitting at the back row and making more noise than the rest of the bus together – disliked Delphini of course, but the trio had long ago come to the conclusion that you couldn't possibly be a nice person if Dudley liked you.

Harry was happy he had occlumency to shut out most of the buzz, as he feared he'd otherwise have had a headache by the time they arrived half an hour later. Everyone of course filed out of the bus with the same racket the ride had been at, while the teachers were attempting to herd them together so no one would run off.

"Alright, everyone," one of the teachers called out. "You already know what we're going to do today, please follow along and stay with us."

Harry, Tomasha and Delphini made sure to remain together, simply walking along with those teachers that weren't either at the back making sure no one remained behind or at the front making sure no one ran off. There'd be enough opportunity for running today, no reason to waste energy now.

After perhaps fifteen minutes of walking – long enough that Dudley had started whining about it, though Harry figured that didn't mean much – they arrived at a completely unremarkable place in the forest.

"Attention, please," the same teacher called. "We're going to play capture the flag, the teams will be divided by class. One will hide their flag somewhere nearby, the other will hide it at the other side of the playing field. At least a quarter of the flag has to remain visible, and you can't hide it higher than five feet, or bind it to a tree or something. If you pull, it has to come free. The edges of the playing field are the path we're standing on right now, the path left of here, the stream right of here, and the path at the other side.

"Everyone will get a random card that determines their strength. If you tag someone or get tagged, you compare cards, the lower rank has to hand in their card and immediately get a new one. If you are equal rank, switch cards. The spy beats the marshal, and the bomb cannot tag but beats everyone except the miner. If you lose your card while carrying the flag, you have to drop it where you stand. You win by getting the other team's flag to your starting position, where the cards are also handed out."

The other class quickly left for their half, while Dudley had – of course – gotten a hold of the flag. Harry decided it would be smarter to stay out of the discussion of where to hide it, and simply got himself the card with his rank.

Not much of note happened during the games, except that Harry made full use of his occlumency to remember what ranks the children of the other class had, so that he knew exactly who he could and could not beat – it was, of course, constantly shouted for everyone to hear which rank someone had – and even looked at their more subtle tells to find bombs and the like. He was also quite happy the teams were divided by class, as Dudley didn't seem to be playing fair, and on top of that Dudley and his friends would probably have ganged up on Harry if given the opportunity.

Lunchtime came all too soon – Harry was having a lot of fun – and the entire two classes sat down on the blankets the teachers had taken along and placed in a clearing. Halfway through lunch, while Harry had been talking with Tomasha and Delphini, Tomasha suddenly spoke up in Parseltongue.

"§Hello.§"

Harry looked around, confused why she spoke Parseltongue, when he heard an unfamiliar voice.

"§A Speaker? I have not met one of you before.§"

He looked down to where the voice came from to find a snake, perhaps three feet long, glancing up at Tomasha.

"§Uh, hello,§" Harry greeted awkwardly. He'd never actually spoken to a snake before. What kind of snake was this, even?

"§Two Speakers?§" the snake asked.

"§Three,§" Harry said. "§Delphini is one too.§" He gestured at her.

"§Are you siblings?§" the snake asked.

"§Me and Delphini are,§" Tomasha said, "§But Harry here is not.§"

"§But you are all Speakers?§"

"§Yes,§" Harry replied. "§Why are you asking?§"

"§Because even among wizards and witches the talent isn't very common,§" Tomasha replied before the snake could. "§And among muggles the talent doesn't even exist. So to find several speakers that aren't even all related in the muggle world is very rare.§"

Harry chuckled. "§You're a lucky snake then.§"

Before he could think about what he would want to ask a snake, Dudley - who was sitting a few feet over - butted in."What are you doing?"

"Why do you even want to know?" Delphini demanded with the same amount of hostility.

The boy managed to stand up – quite impressive, considering the sheer weight he had to raise to manage that – and came over, shrieking like a little girl when he saw the snake. And, of course, calling it out for everyone to hear. "A snake!"

Tomasha quietly cursed in Parseltongue. "§Go away,§" she whispered to the snake. "§Before they hurt you.§"

"Are… are you trying to _talk_ to it with that creepy hissing thing of yours?" Dudley asked.

"What's it to you, Dursley?" Delphini replied aggressively. "Mind your own business."

One of the teachers came over. "Someone saw a snake?"

"An adder," Tomasha replied. "But he's already gone."

"Sir," Dudley said, "they… I think they were trying to talk to it."

"Oh, come on Dudley, don't be ridiculous. We can't talk to snakes. They aren't even intelligent." The teacher dismissed him and walked away.

"§Not intelligent,§" Tomasha scoffed. "§Shows how little you know. Just because snakes don't have a society doesn't mean they're not intelligent.§"

"Stop that!" Dudley said.

"§No.§" Harry hissed in reply, making the boy edge away.

"So, this was an adder?" Harry asked Tomasha.

She nodded and started explaining the differences between the few species of snakes that occurred in Britain, of which adders were the only venomous ones.

* * *

"Could there be a betrothal contract for me?" Harry asked, somewhat worried he might be chained to a girl he didn't even know. It was summer again, a year before they would go to Hogwarts, and the last few weeks he and the girls had been going through more etiquette lessons and the like. Right now he was just talking with Tomasha while Delphini was practicing her wandless magic. She wasn't very quick with her magic, but made up for it by being powerful, so Tomasha had decided that she should focus on spells that relied a lot on power.

"I would be very surprised," Tomasha answered Harry. "The Potters were a light family, and light families normally wait until later to sign betrothal contracts to make sure that their child at least likes their betrothed, not to mention that some marriages aren't even arranged at all – like your parents' marriage."

"But there could be one? Or what if there's, like, an older betrothal contract, from before I was born."

"Don't be ridiculous! You can't sign a betrothal contract about people that aren't born yet. That makes no sense. And even if there is one, well, a contract would normally include a clause that allows you to cancel it in exchange for a price, typically a big pile of money. So if there _is_ one, well, you're Lord Potter, that means that you _are_ the Head of House, which means there's no Head of House that can refuse to cancel a contract you don't want."

"What if there's no cancellation clause?"

"Then you could discuss with the other House to still cancel it, as long as you come to an agreement. If you offer enough money, you can typically get almost anything done."

"And if they refuse?"

"If they're unreasonable, you can bring it before the Wizengamot, and ask them to vote on it in their capacity as a court of law. Of course, bribes go a long way there as well. And even if the Wizengamot doesn't do anything about it, you could always just ignore the contract, though that wouldn't be a good move politically."

"But what if it's magically enforced?"

"Wait, didn't we cover that a while back?" Tomasha asked, honestly confused. "It's against the law to write magically enforced contracts that involve people, it falls under slavery. Magically enforced contracts are always about goods or money. If you come across a betrothal contract that would be magically enforced for some reason, and you don't want it, all you have to do is show the Wizengamot and the contract will be declared illegal. And of course the Wizengamot can always override magically enforced contracts, because a Ministry employee is required to cast the magic, meaning the Wizengamot has power over it."

"Well, that's a relief," Harry said. "I want to marry someone I actually like."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore made his way to a remote corner of his office, where the Hogwarts Quill sat. Today, the invitation letters would be written. Normally, he wouldn't bother watching this process, but this time around, he was curious. He conjured a chair and sat down just as the quill started moving, writing the name _Hannah Abbott_.

He watched as the quill made it's way through the alphabet, taking note of the many important names, such as Bones, Longbottom and Malfoy. Finally, the quill arrived at the letter P. There were quite a few names at that letter this year, it appeared. Parkinson – which was of course yet another important name – the Patil twins, some Perks girl who was probably a muggleborn, and… Harry James Potter.

He saw the first letters of the next line – 'Cupboard under the stairs' – but stood with a sigh, and made his way back to his office, which meant he did not see the rest of the names – like those starting with the letter R.

So the boy was still alive then. Not that Albus had _expected_ him to die, but he had hoped someone would follow the example of the Dursleys and take it one step further. Oh, well. He had prepared for this option. The Stone, which he would first of all use to lure Tom to the castle to give himself an idea of what the Dark Lord was up to, would also function as a bait for a confrontation between the two. Considering the difference in Tom's power – even while without a body – and an untrained Harry Potter, there should be a decent chance the last Potter would die. Not to mention that the traps designed by other teachers might do the trick, as long as Albus was vague enough in his instructions. His own trap, of course, would never be able to do that. It was a concession he had to live with. He'd done so for a century, and he would continue doing so.


	5. 1-4: Hogwarts Preparations

**AN: I forgot to add this to last chapter, but thanks to Dragonbait for coming up with the school trip so I had enough content to write a full chapter with the break where I wanted it.**

**AN: We're really taking off now. The current outline gives 11 chapters for the first book (in addition to the prologue), and you can expect the length of this chapter to be the default in the future.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Hogwarts Preparations**

* * *

"Oh, for… BOY! Get the mail already!"

Harry hurriedly made sure nothing was at risk of catching on fire or getting burnt, then hurried out of the kitchen through the living room and into the hall to get the mail. Immediately, he noticed an official-looking letter that he quickly identified as his Hogwarts letter, and he did a small celebration dance.

"Boy! What's taking you so long?"

He hurried back into the room, giving the other post to Vernon.

"Sorry, Uncle. I was happy that my Hogwarts letter finally arrived."

He broke the seal on the letter and started opening it, but Vernon roughly pulled the letter out of his hands, almost pushing him to the floor in the process – Harry guessed that he wouldn't have been heavy enough to keep his balance if he'd still been as scrawny as a few years ago.

Uncle Vernon looked deathly pale as he regarded the letter in his hand. "P-P-Petunia!" he finally brought out.

"What's that?" Dudley demanded, but Vernon refused to show him.

"Get out!" he bellowed before handing the letter to Petunia.

"But my letter!" Harry said angrily. Normally, he wouldn't go against an order from his uncle, but this was about his _Hogwarts letter_.

"No!" Vernon shouted. "You will not be going to that place, freak! Out!" He attempted to backhand Harry, but a quick wandless impeding hex took the force away from the blow. Taking the hint, Harry retreated to the hall together with Dudley. Another wandless impeding hex allowed him to push Dudley away so that he could watch through the keyhole.

"We'll burn it," Vernon said to Petunia, still in a raised voice. "He's not going."

"No!" Harry called out from his hiding spot. "My letter!"

If they burned it… if they burned it he couldn't go to Hogwarts. Vernon scrambled through the living room as Harry contemplated bursting into the room and stunning his uncle. But if he did that, there was no way he wouldn't be kicked out onto the street, as Vernon had often threatened him with. Instead, he watched in horror as Vernon found a lighter, and he broke down in tears as the flames started licking away at the parchment.

"What a crybaby you are," Dudley taunted him.

Harry didn't even reply, knowing his future, his chance for a better life, had just been burned away.

The doorbell rang.

"Who is that!" Vernon bellowed, clearly still furious.

It appeared even Dudley was afraid of his father right now, as he made his way to the door to open for whoever had called. And immediately gave a small shriek before fleeing upstairs.

Harry looked at the visitor through his tears. Tomasha.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, emotionless. Behind him, the door opened and immediately closed again, Vernon deciding not to deal with the girl.

Tomasha gasped as she saw Harry. "Harry! Are you alright?" She rushed over to him.

"M-my letter." He started sobbing again. "They burned my Hogwarts letter! I c-can't go to Hogwarts!"

She hugged him. "Shh, it'll be fine. They'll send another letter. And if you don't reply, they'll come visit you. You're the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry! Lord Potter. Everyone knows you'll start Hogwarts this year. Your relatives aren't going to stop you from attending."

Harry retreated into his mindscape for a moment, centering himself. Tomasha was right, of course. He would be going to Hogwarts. Worst case, he could probably tag along with her and Delphini. After all, he'd already been entered. The letter being sent was proof of that.

"You're right," he breathed, quickly calming down. "I wasn't thinking. Why are you here, actually?"

"Oh! I'd just received my own letter, so I wanted to ask if you'd gotten yours yet. Apparently not. Well, sooner or later you're gonna get it, perhaps you can tag along to Diagon Alley with us then?"

Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

Harry was utterly flabbergasted when, later that day, he was given Dudley's second bedroom. And no matter what Dudley did – screaming, getting sick on purpose, kicking, even throwing his poor tortoise through the greenhouse roof – he didn't get it back. It didn't make a lick of sense.

Still, Harry wasn't going to complain about having an actual bed. He didn't buy the 'you were getting too big for your cupboard' excuse for a moment, however. This was definitely because of the letter.

The next day, when the mail arrived, Harry was once again taken by surprise when Vernon actually got to his feet to get it himself. A few seconds later – to Harry's great relief – the smell of burning parchment crept through the house. He might not have his letter yet, but this was confirmation they'd continue sending them.

Despite that, Harry would rather speed up the process, so the next morning at six he made his way downstairs, intending to meet the mailman outside. Perhaps, he figured, his relatives would go back to… well, whatever their version of 'normal' would appropriately be called, if he got to read his letter, and he could then go to Diagon Alley.

To his horror, he stood in something squishy while in the hall. Something squishy that turned out to be _Vernon's face_, as the walrus had spent the night in the hallway, apparently expecting Harry to do exactly this.

He was quickly – and none too gently, of course – forced into the kitchen to make breakfast, and by the time he'd finished that chore, three letters had arrived and been torn to pieces.

That day, while making a lot of comments about "those people" as if Harry didn't know about the wizarding world at all, Uncle Vernon nailed up the mail slot.

"I don't know why they don't send the deputy Headmistress," Tomasha said. "You're raised in the muggle world, shouldn't they treat you like a muggleborn for this?"

"But I know all about the magical world already," Harry pointed out.

"You do, but they don't know that."

Harry couldn't fault her for that reasoning.

The next day, twelve letters were pushed through the sides of the door, or under it, and even slipped through the downstairs bathroom window. Which, Harry had to admit, was actually kind of funny.

The day after that, his confusion over Vernon and Petunia's actions truly didn't stand a chance anymore against his amusement, when the baffled milkman handed a carton with two dozen eggs to Aunt Petunia through the window, only for her to find a letter had been rolled up inside every single egg. Harry actually fled to his new room so he could laugh until his ribs hurt.

The next day – Sunday – Vernon was positive nothing would happen.

"No post on Sundays," he said cheerfully. "No damn letters to—" a letter shot out of the fireplace, proving you should never tempt fate. After that one second of beautiful, theatrical silence, a whole flock of letters rapidly catapulted out of the fireplace. Before Harry could make up his mind on whether to capture and open one, Uncle Vernon grabbed him and forced him into the hall.

"That does it!" he raged. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave! We're going away! Just pack some clothes! _No arguments!_"

Ten minutes later they found themselves in the car, Dudley crying in the back seat because Vernon had cuffed him for trying to pack his various electronic devices in his sports bag. Harry passed the time mostly in his mindscape, contemplating some changes – a mindscape was never complete, and it was already far more expansive than it had been a few years ago – and thinking about the ordering of his memories, and so forth. Petunia and Dudley did not have a distraction like that, and were quickly very bored. Harry wasn't sure if Vernon was bored, but suspected he was too paranoid for that right now, considering he seemed to be driving at random, with how he was suddenly making U-turns and the like.

Finally, after more than an hour of shutting out Dudley's wailing behind occlumency walls, they arrived at a hotel where Vernon decided to stay the night.

To wake up to a very surprised hotel owner who had found about a hundred letters that morning.

Vernon, of course, waved the hotel owner off and they left again, spending the entire day driving through the country to find a place to spend the night, eventually ending at a small bed and breakfast in a remote village. The next morning, the post box of the owner of the bed and breakfast had literally disappeared in a pile of letters. **(AN: This last paragraph has been added to fix a calendar issue in the original books, as July 31****st**** 1991 was a Wednesday)**

* * *

A forest. A large, plowed field. A suspension bridge. A parking garage. On the upside, Harry got to see a lot of interesting locations. However, Vernon didn't seem to like any of them, as he always got back in the car again and they continued their search for whatever he was looking for. Harry didn't quite understand what the point was.

Eventually, they parked near the coast, and Vernon got them a boat to get to some remote rock barely visible from land, with a small shack on it. Vernon happily told them there was a storm forecast for the night.

After another Dudley panic attack – some television show he was missing – they made their way to the shack. Vernon and Petunia claimed the bed in the side room, while Dudley would get to sleep on the couch. For Harry, the floor was deemed good enough.

He had to admit, he thought to himself as he curled up under the ragged blanket, the storm raging around them, owls likely couldn't fly in this weather. But it was ridiculous to think they could evade the letters forever.

Dudley's watch allowed Harry to count down the minutes until midnight – his birthday, as he had realized a few hours back. The last few years, he'd spent most of it with the Riddles, and he found he was a little sad that wasn't an option this time around.

The moment the watch hit midnight, something powerful pounded on the door.

Another powerful _thump_. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he asked like the idiot he was.

Vernon rushed into the room, a rifle in his hands. "Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you, I'm armed!"

With the next hit, the door fell into the shack, revealing a giant of a man, with a scraggly beard that hid most of his face together with his long, wild hair. He squeezed his way into the hut, then picked up the door and put it back in its frame.

He gave them all a good look. "Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey."

Harry stepped up to him and held out his hand. "Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

"Ah, Harry!" the giant's face lit up when he saw him. "Yeh look jus' like yer dad, but with yer mom's eyes. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, but jus' call me Hagrid." When he returned the handshake, Harry's entire arm shook.

"I demand you leave at once, sir!" Vernon said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," Hagrid replied, pulling the gun out of his hands and bending it into a knot. He threw it into the corner of the room while Vernon made a funny noise.

"Anyway, Harry," Hagrid continued, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

Harry accepted the package, tearing it open to find a birthday cake inside.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm sure it'll taste great."

Hagrid sat down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight.

"So," Harry attempted to start up the conversation. "I suppose you're here from Hogwarts?"

"I am," Hagrid confirmed. "I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Dumbledore asked me to make sure yeh got yer letter." He handed it over.

"Thanks," Harry said, calmly opening it.

"He's not going," Vernon said bluntly.

"What do yeh mean, he's not going?" Hagrid demanded. "A muggle like yeh ain't gonna keep Harry Potter from going ter Hogwarts!"

Harry read through the letter and snorted. "Well, that's a tight schedule. I don't have an owl yet, but I have to send one no later than today. And it has to fly all the way up to Scotland."

"That reminds me!" Hagrid said, slapping his forehead. He pulled a frazzled owl from one of his pockets, some writing equipment from another, scribbled a note, then threw the owl straight into the storm.

Perhaps Harry had been wrong about what owls could endure.

"Hagrid," Harry said, "why'd you write in the note that you're going to take me to buy my things?"

The giant frowned – or at least, that was what Harry assumed from how his hair moved. "Yeh can't get to Diagon Alley on yer own, can you?"

Harry shook his head. "Two girls down the street at Privet Drive are going to Hogwarts this year too, we planned to go together."

Hagrid grunted. "That might be a better idea. Don' think I'm the best person ter take you shopping anyway."

"I don't get the reason for all this fuss anyway," Harry said to no one in particular. "I was already entered to Hogwarts, I'm going there either way. Can we just go home now?"

"What are you talking about?" Dudley – who seemed to have finally found his voice – asked. "What's Hogwarts? What's that owl stuff about?"

"Yeh don't know?" Hagrid asked, perplexed. "But Harry, how d'you know about us then?"

"The girls I mentioned," he replied. "They told me everything about the wizarding world, what had happened to my parents, all those things."

"Yeh mean those two never told yeh anything?" Hagrid asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Harry shook his head. "It's okay, I know what I need to know." He had no desire that someone else would find out about their treatment of him.

"Well, I'm staying the night," Hagrid said. "Makin' sure yeh get home to those girls of yours. And if something's up, yeh can send me an owl."

Meanwhile, the Dursleys dragged Dudley (who was now whining for answers) into the other room to explain the existence of magic.

* * *

"You're back!"

Harry glanced ahead. When they had arrived back at Privet Drive, he'd made his way straight for the Riddles, but it appeared Tomasha had seen the car drive past her house as she was already coming his way.

"I am," Harry said. "I have my letter and everything. I figured I could as well come over immediately, I can't wait to see Diagon Alley for the first time."

"It's amazing!" Tomasha said as they made their way to her house. "But what happened? Why did the Dursleys leave?"

"I don't know," Harry said, diving into an explanation of what had happened the last few days.

"…and then Hagrid made sure I got home as well and just before he left he gave me my Gringotts vault key." Harry held it up and gave it a glance. "I'm assuming it would be my trust vault key?"

"I suppose," Tomasha said, stepping inside with Harry behind her.

"Potter's back? Does that mean we finally get to go to Diagon Alley?"

Harry couldn't help but feel amused at Delphini's stubborn refusal to ever acknowledge any kind of friendship in her words, but that didn't stop him from giving a sarcastic reply.

"Hi Delph, nice to see you too. Yes, I'm still alive, I haven't been killed or dropped off in the middle of nowhere by my relatives, thank you for asking. And yes, I even have my Hogwarts letter, so I can buy supplies now. And perhaps we can celebrate my birthday when I'm back?"

"Oh!" Tomasha exclaimed. "Sorry, Harry, I completely forgot. Happy birthday!"

He smiled. "Thanks."

At that moment, Euphemia entered the living room just in front of Thorfinn. "There's the birthday boy! Glad to see you're back, Harry. Do you have your letter?"

"I do," Harry confirmed. "Can we go now?"

"To Diagon Alley? Of course," Euphemia said.

"Have you ever flooed before?" Thorfinn asked, looking at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "I know how it works, but I've never done it."

"Well, it's quite simple," Thorfinn said, taking some floo powder. "Just make sure you pronounce the location clearly, step into the fireplace, wait until you stop spinning, then step out." He was about to demonstrate when Euphemia called out for him to wait, receiving questioning looks from everyone.

"Let's give Harry a glamour so he won't be recognized."

"Good idea," Thorfinn nodded, already drawing his wand and casting a few spells. Euphemia conjured a mirror for Harry, who noticed his scar was hidden completely, and his hair had been turned into a dark blond while his eyes were now blue.

"Does that look fine to you?" Euphemia asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, thank you. I know I can't avoid it forever but I'd prefer to wait until I'm at Hogwarts before everyone sees me as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"With that out of the way, let's floo over," Thorfinn said, now showing Harry exactly how to do so.

"Who's next?" Euphemia asked after he'd stepped into the fire and disappeared.

After a moment, Tomasha volunteered. Harry went in next.

"Leaky Cauldron," he said clearly before stepping into the green flames. The world started spinning around him, but luckily it didn't make him dizzy. Rooms shot across his eyes one by one, too brief to make out anything. He stood there for several minutes, until the glimpses suddenly slowed, and then he saw a half-filled pub that radiated friendliness. Quickly, he stepped out, seeing Thorfinn and Tomasha already waiting for him. He stepped away from the fireplace, and a few seconds later Delphini stepped out, finally followed by Euphemia.

"We'd best go to Gringotts first," Thorfinn said. "I'll get some more money from our vault for Tomasha and Delphini, while Euphemia can go with Harry to get an overview of his possessions. What about you two? Do you want to go with Harry or with me?"

"I'd like to go with Harry," Tomasha said immediately. Delphini stepped over to them as well.

"Alright," Euphemia said, clapping her hands and leading the way to Diagon Alley. "We'd better get going then. Do you have your keys, Harry?"

"I have one," Harry said. "Hagrid gave it to me this morning."

"Hagrid?" Euphemia asked. "Rubeus Hagrid?"

Harry nodded.

"Why was _he_ sent to give you your letter?" she wondered.

Harry didn't reply, as at that moment they stepped into Diagon Alley, a sight that took his breath away. Everywhere he looked, he saw shops for all kinds of magical necessities. Cauldrons, brooms, ingredients, and so much more. Many of the people bustling around here wore robes. He knew that was common in the magical world, but seeing it for himself was an entirely different matter.

"Wow," was all he could say.

"Come on," Delphini said.

Harry chuckled. "We have all day, Delph. It's the first time I'm here. Let me enjoy the sights."

He did start moving, however, and Euphemia led them through the crowds while Harry went over what he'd been taught about interacting with goblins. Be direct, be honest, don't use flattery, and so on.

He stared in awe when Gringotts first appeared in the distance. It was one of the most imposing buildings Harry had ever seen, a tall structure best defined by the words marble and ornate. After a few seconds, he pushed down his nerves and followed Euphemia inside. Once there, he was surprised to see Hagrid waiting in another line, but he decided not to greet the huge man, as he didn't want to draw attention to his glamour.

The line shuffled forward until it was their turn, and the goblin behind the counter sneered at the group.

"Greetings, Master Goblin," Harry said, stepping to the front. "I would like to access my vaults. However, there is a complication, as I do not have my keys. I was given a single key earlier, which I think is my trust vault key, but I do not know for certain."

"What vaults are we talking about?" the goblin asked.

Harry briefly looked around. "I'd prefer to discuss these specifics in a private room, if that is possible."

"There would be a fee associated with that," the goblin said. "This fee will be taken from the vault this key belongs to, independent of any other vaults you may or may not own."

Harry nodded. "I am aware."

"Blackjaw!" the goblin called, and another goblin quickly hurried over. "Take this boy and the ones with him to a meeting room for confirmation of his identity."

The second goblin – Blackjaw – told them to follow him while the teller already directed his attention to the next one in line.

They followed Blackjaw through one of many doors, then took a room on the left of the corridor they found themselves in. The room was sparsely decorated, nothing more than a few simple chairs and a table.

"Wait here," Blackjaw instructed. "A representative will join you soon." With that, he left and closed the door.

The group waited anxiously, until about a minute later when another goblin entered.

"Greetings," the new goblin spoke. "I am Ironclaw. Which of you requested confirmation of vault ownership?"

"That would be me," Harry said. "Greetings, Master Ironclaw. I am Harry Potter, though my appearance is currently hidden by a glamour to avoid unwanted attention. I would like to ask permission for Euphemia Rowle—" he gestured to her "—to draw her wand to cancel the glamours."

Ironclaw glanced at her with suspicion. "Permission granted."

With slow movements, Euphemia drew her wand and cast several finites at Harry before putting her wand away again. He could have cast them himself, but wandless casting would not be appreciated by the goblins.

"Which vaults do you claim?"

"All vaults that legally belong to the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, all vaults that legally belong to the Lord Potter, being me, all vaults that legally belong to the Heir Potter, as there is none and ownership therefore defaults to the House, all vaults that belong personally to me, Harry James Potter, and all vaults that have been inherited by me, Harry James Potter, at any point in my life. Beyond the reasonable expectation that there is both a trust vault set by my parents and a family vault such as any Noble or Ancient family is expected to own, I do not have any knowledge on how few or how many vaults fall under my claim." Harry profusely thanked his occlumency for helping him in formulating such a clear claim. And generally helping him maintain the right composure for interacting with goblins.

"Do you have any physical proof of ownership for any of these vaults?"

"Only partial proof," Harry replied, handing over the key. "This key was recently given to me and I was told it belonged to my vault, which I took to mean my trust vault. Other than that, I have no proof that I can show you."

Ironclaw accepted the key and waved over it with his hand in numerous patterns. Some form of goblin magic, Harry assumed.

"This key indeed belongs to the trust vault of Harry James Potter," Ironclaw said. "Though I cannot allow you access to any vault other than the one this key belongs to, this is enough proof of identity for me to summon the account manager of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, who is authorized to determine truth of any claims on vaults of House Potter. Please wait here."

The goblin left like the last had done, and returned several minutes later to show in another goblin. Before leaving, he put a few items on the table.

"Greetings," the new goblin said. "One among you seeks to claim vaults under my purview?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I am Harry James Potter, and as the last living member of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, I wish to claim all vaults belonging to my House, as I detailed to Master Ironclaw."

The goblin nodded. "I am Silverhand, account manager of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter among others. The vaults that fall under your claim are as follows. The Potter family vault, the trust vault for Harry James Potter and the personal vault of Lily Potter née Evans, which has been bequeathed to Harry James Potter. Do you confirm you wish to claim these vaults?"

"Yes."

"The required identification is different between these vaults. Ownership of the key is sufficient authorization for the trust vault, proof of identity is required for the personal vault of Lily Potter, and the Potter Lordship is required for the family vault. As the Potter Lordship has not been claimed by the legal Heir in the seven years since the last Lord Potter's death, Gringotts will recognize anyone with a close familial relationship to the late Lord Potter – this being child, sibling or parent – as Lord or Lady Potter until the Ministry officially recognizes the next Lord or Lady Potter."

"I thought I was Lord Potter already," Harry said, confused.

"According to wizarding custom you are," Silverhand said. "However, Ministry recognition is more strict, and only applies once you are presented or present yourself to the Wizengamot, which has not yet happened. Unless you have any unknown living relatives that attempt to access the Potter family vault, this difference does not impact your dealings with Gringotts. All this assuming, of course, that you are indeed Harry James Potter.

"Under our contract with the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, we are in possession of a sample of the late Lord Potter's blood. If you are willing to give us some of your blood, we can determine the degree of relation between you and the late Lord Potter through a test. Under the treaties between goblins and wizards, we are forbidden from using the blood of any human for any purpose other than those explicitly detailed before obtaining their blood, and if not all blood is used, the remnant will be destroyed, though this test will consume all blood taken. Do you comply?"

"I do," Harry said. On Silverhand's instructions, he held his hand forward, and the goblin cut the palm of his hand with a dagger, catching several drops in a vial.

"The woman accompanying you has permission to draw her wand to mend the cut," Silverhand said as he poured Harry's blood into a bowl, followed by what Harry assumed to be his father's blood, and then a potion so bright red it made the blood look dull. While Harry kept watching, Euphemia healed the cut, and a few seconds after the potion had poured in, the mixture started to change color, eventually settling on a golden hue.

"First degree relationship," Silverhand said. "Together with the key you presented, this is sufficient proof that you are indeed Harry James Potter to access all vaults you laid claim to. Currently, you have full control over these vaults with two exceptions. First, you are not allowed to alter current security procedures, and second, you are not allowed to take out a value of more than two thousand galleons per year over the trust vault and family vault combined. Once you claim the Potter Lordship with the Ministry, you will be able to do these things as well.

"In addition, you have the right to make decisions on how the money in the vaults is managed. Do you wish to make changes to this?"

"What is the current situation?"

"Your trust vault is currently filled, and will refill once a year if money has been taken out, and nothing is added or removed otherwise, nor has that happened in the past. Similarly, nothing has been added to or removed from Lily Potter's vault since her death. According to the Gringotts-Potter contract, a limited part of the Potter estate has been used for investments. Over the last decade, since the death of Lord James Charlus Potter, the total value of the Potter family vault has grown with several percent, to a current total of 54,338 galleons in liquid assets. Additionally, it contains various artifacts and other possessions worth by estimate about 31,000 galleons. The House of Potter also holds investments and properties with an estimated worth of about 145,000 more galleons."

Harry quickly compared the numbers he had been told to the numbers he had been taught to expect for a House such as his. It more or less fit the age of the House. Rich but not ridiculously so. If he converted it to pounds… about 11 million pounds. He wondered what Vernon and Petunia would think if they knew that. They'd probably try to steal it.

"Continue managing the accounts as you have done so far," Harry told Silverhand. "I would like to visit my trust vault and the Potter family vault now."

"Please follow me," Silverhand said. "As this is the first time you will access your vaults, I will escort you personally."

Together, they left the room, and Silverhand led them through Gringotts, finally arriving in what could only be described as a cavern. A single cart stood upon the beginning of a rail track that disappeared in the torch-lit depths. Despite himself, Harry spent a few moments admiring the scenery before climbing in. The cart raced over the tracks like a rollercoaster (not that Harry had ever been in one, so he couldn't make a fair comparison), and just minutes later they stood in front of his trust vault. It was filled with one thousand galleons – as customary for trust vaults of old families, and confirmed by Silverhand to be the case here too – of which Harry took out a hundred. That should be more than enough to make it through the year, considering Hogwarts would take care of pretty much all Harry's needs.

The group was pretty much silent, as there was simply nothing to comment on, and a trip to a vault wasn't the best time to natter away. The cart continued on towards the family vault, where Harry expected to spend slightly more time. Indeed, as he entered he saw not only mounds of gold, but also shelves filled with artifacts, various chests, and more. The vault was quite spacious, and it appeared to Harry that it could be extended at the back side if more space was required.

He picked the left path through the vault, Tomasha, Delphini and Euphemia trailing behind him while he quickly took in his possessions. Silverhand remained at the door. They were almost at the back of the vault – where the path curved and then went back to the entrance – when Tomasha spoke up.

"I hadn't expected those here."

She was pointing to a set of rings resting on a pedestal. Harry stepped up to it, and immediately recognized the Potter signet on the right ring, the bigger of the two.

"Me neither," he replied, surprised. He had expected the Potter rings to have ended up at the Ministry after his parents had been killed, but it appeared they had stored them in the vault before going into hiding.

Suddenly nervous, Harry picked the ring off the pedestal and inspected it. It was indeed the ring of Lord Potter, a golden band with a stag sigil surrounded by various rubies and emeralds, the last ones being the smaller ones. A sad smile spread across Harry's face at the obvious reference to his mother's red hair and green eyes. No doubt, his father had selected those gemstones because of her. When they had looked into House Potter's history, they had discovered that it was a Potter tradition for every Lord and Lady to select personal gemstones for their ring.

Harry briefly picked up the silver Lady ring, which had rubies to mirror the ones on the Lord ring, and what appeared to be gold insets. The Gryffindor colors, he realized after a moment. His father had had brown eyes, which of course didn't have any well-known gemstone association, and from what little personal information they'd managed to dig up about Harry's parents, his father had seemed a very proud Gryffindor.

Harry put that ring back down, and directed his attention back to the Lord ring. After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up and slipped it on his finger, where it resized to fit him.

"Are you sure you want to wear it?" Tomasha asked.

"Why not?" Harry asked, turning to her.

"Most of the Light families don't wear their rings anymore except in official situations," Tomasha said. "You might stand out."

"It's not like I won't stand out anyway, considering I am the Boy-Who-Lived. You're right that I'll align myself with the Light, but that doesn't mean I agree with them on everything. Wearing the ring would show that I make my own choices."

Tomasha nodded. "That makes sense."

They continued their round through the vault, Harry taking note of things that might be interesting worth a look at later on. After finishing Hogwarts he'd do a thorough examination, but right now there wasn't much use for that, not to mention he would have to pay Silverhand for every minute spent here, as the goblin was accompanying him personally.

"We would like to go back to the surface," Harry told him as they stepped out of the vault again. Some ten minutes later they once again stood in the atrium of the bank, and Harry bid Silverhand farewell.

"What shall we do next?" Euphemia asked after reapplying Harry's glamour charms.

"Maybe get our robes?" Tomasha offered after a second.

"That might be a good idea," Euphemia said. "Madam Malkin is quite close. Come."

They entered the shop several minutes later, and a woman immediately appeared to greet them.

"Hogwarts, dears? Oh, three of you, and I've got a boy being fitted up just now, in fact. Perhaps the ladies could wait a moment while the gentleman's robes are done first?"

Euphemia gave them a quick glance. "Of course."

"Come along. I'm Madam Malkin, by the way, pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," Harry replied as he was told to step on a stool. Next to him, a pale, blond boy with an aristocratic look on his face was also being fitted.

"You're going to Hogwarts too?" the boy asked, a sneer in his voice as he glanced at Harry – or, more likely, Harry's tattered muggle clothes.

Aristocratic, seeming disdain for muggles, obviously spoiled and – according to his own cultural values – incredibly rude by not introducing himself properly. It took Harry only a moment to decide on a course of action.

"Are you muggleborn?" he asked innocently as Madam Malkin fluttered around him, taking measurements.

"_What?_" the boy spluttered, growing red. "I… I… You…"

"Oh, my apologies," Harry said. "It's just, I'd expect someone who grew up in the magical world to properly introduce themselves first." Not that Harry cared all that much about these things – he mostly learned them because he didn't want to be disrespectful – but it seemed the perfect avenue to put this boy down a peg.

"How dare you insult me like that! I am Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy! Show me some respect!"

"Oh, you are?" Harry replied, feigning nonchalance. "Well, I am _Lord_ Harry James Potter of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, which means I am of a higher rank than you." He ignored the gasp coming from Madam Malkin. "_You_ should be the one to show respect, not to mention you still haven't introduced yourself. A future title is no substitute for a lack of manners, you know."

"_You_? Harry Potter?" Heir Malfoy said. "You don't even look like him!"

"Of course I don't," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You might have missed it, but I am somewhat famous. It's much easier for me to do my Hogwarts shopping if I am not recognized at every turn." He showed his hand. "And here's the Potter ring. Now, are you going to continue being rude, or will you finally introduce yourself?"

"Heir Draco Lucius Malfoy of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy," the boy practically spat.

"Glad we cleared that up," Harry said cheerfully. "Any idea where you'll be sorted, Heir Malfoy?"

"Slytherin, of course," he sneered. "Unlike you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought Slytherin prided themselves on their tradition _and manners_. In addition to their primary values of cunning and ambition, of course." A small part of him was wondering whether it was a good idea to antagonize the Heir to such a prominent family – if of questionable ideology – but at the same time there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he'd ever want to work with someone this spoiled and arrogant. Even independent of ideology.

"You know _nothing_ of tradition," Malfoy growled.

"There, you're ready to go," the young lady working on Malfoy's robes interrupted.

"Good," Malfoy said. "Time to get out of here before I'm infected with Light stupidity."

Harry chuckled softly. A few minutes later, his robes were done too, and Tomasha and Delphini were guided towards the stools while Harry left to wait with Euphemia.

"Why was that boy so angry when he left?" Euphemia asked, interested.

"Oh, that was Heir Malfoy," Harry said. "I asked if he was muggleborn, apparently he took offense to that."

"You _what_?" she exclaimed.

"He needed five words to prove himself as spoiled and arrogant. As he also didn't introduce himself, I had a plausible excuse to ask him that question."

She chuckled. "With that mind of yours, you may make a good Lord one day, Harry. Just don't antagonize people if it's not needed."

"I'll never get along with someone as unlikable as him anyway."

"I'd be surprised if you would."

A few minutes later, the girls came back, and Harry again told his tale, to the amusement of Delphini in particular. However, soon they met back up with Thorfinn and got caught up in the shopping.

"What about pets?" Tomasha asked as they left the bookstore.

"Good idea," Euphemia said, already steering them in the right direction.

"What do you want?" Harry asked Delphini.

She shrugged. "I don't know. No one likes toads, and I'm not really a bird person either. I guess a cat could be nice. At the very least they'll keep the vermin away."

"And you, Tomasha?"

"I'm not sure. I'd like having a snake but they're not allowed. I guess I'll just take a look when we're in there. What about you?"

"I don't know either," Harry replied as they entered the shop. "A toad or cat might be a problem with the Dursleys, I doubt they'd like that. So maybe an owl? I could just let it out through the window. If the Dursleys don't put me back into the cupboard, that is."

He looked around the shadowy store, trying to shut out the racket the pets made. There weren't only owls, cats and toads, but also rats, ravens, snakes, various magical animals and more.

"What's this?" Harry asked Thorfinn, pointing to a particularly nice-looking and fuzzy animal, though he hurriedly pulled his arm back when the creature lunged against it's cage, trying to reach Harry's hand.

"A niffler," Thorfinn replied. "They're pretty gentle and really soft, but they are attracted to anything shiny. As long as you keep all jewelry and such away from them, they're nice pets, but for most people it's too much work to do that."

Harry glanced at his ring – which was probably what the niffler had reacted to. "I see what you mean."

"Harry!" Tomasha called over the noise. "What about this owl?"

He made his way over to her and the snow owl she was indicating. "It's beautiful. You should take it." The owl proudly puffed up its feathers.

"No," Tomasha said. "I meant for you. You wanted an owl, right?"

"What about you then?"

"Well, if you have an owl, can I use it sometimes?"

"Of course. I don't think I have anyone to send mail to other than Thorfinn and Euphemia anyway."

"Then I don't need an owl of my own, right?"

"I… suppose. I'm just surprised you don't want it, it's really beautiful." He looked back at the owl, who was staring at each of them in turn with its bright amber eyes. "Don't worry," he said, smiling. "If Tomasha doesn't buy you, I will."

The owl hooted.

"You're really not interested?" Harry asked.

"No," Tomasha said.

Harry picked up the cage. "What do you want then?"

"I'm thinking about a cat. Let's see what Delph is looking at."

Said girl was standing in front of at least a dozen cages with cats, most of them still young, though Harry wouldn't classify any of them as an actual kitten.

"Made your choice already?" Tomasha asked.

Delphini shook her head. "I was trying to decide between these. I was kind of thinking about the completely black one, the one with a twin, but I wasn't sure." She didn't want to split the twins that currently shared a cage, Harry filled in what was left unsaid.

"How about we both buy one?" Tomasha offered. "You get the completely black twin, I get the twin with white paws and nose."

"Okay," Delphini agreed, her mask of nonchalance breaking slightly as she studied the cat that was about to be hers just as it started to pester its twin, which seemed to prefer to just lie there and do nothing.

The girls together picked up the cage, and they went to the counter to complete the purchase. Harry's owl – who the shop owner told him was a female – was glaring at the cats the twins had bought, which made him giggle only for her to then shift her glare to him.

After that, the only purchase remaining was a wand, which quickly made Harry feel giddy with excitement. He'd learned some wandless magic over the years, of course, but a wand would make it that much easier to learn new spells.

The shop was narrow, but long, and with the little lighting it almost felt as if the rows and rows of wand-sized boxes went on forever. It was also silent, making Harry feel slightly uneasy as they took a few steps inside.

"Good afternoon," a voice suddenly said behind them. Only Harry's occlumency stopped him from jumping in surprise.

"Hello," he replied, turning to face who must have been Ollivander, the wandmaker.

"Ah yes," Ollivander replied. "Harry Potter, I had expected to see you soon."

Harry raised a – glamoured – eyebrow.

"Detection wards," Ollivander admitted. "Special Ministry license. They help me find the best wand for a customer as quickly as possible. And with you are… how interesting. I did not know Riddle had a daughter, let alone two… I'm afraid I don't know your names, ladies."

"Delphini and Tomasha," Tomasha indicated each of them. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Ollivander."

"Pleased to meet you too, Miss Riddle," Ollivander replied, shaking her hand. He glanced between the three for a moment. "Who wants to go first?"

After a moment, Delphini volunteered. She and Ollivander went through a handful of wands before she swished one that emitted a spray of green and silver sparks.

"Very good, there's the one. 14 inch, ebony and dragon heartstring." Ollivander peered over his glasses. "An interesting combination, and one heavily drawn towards certain personalities. Now, who's next?"

Harry and Tomasha looked at each other. "You first?" Harry proposed.

Tomasha shook her head. "You go first. I can wait a little longer."

Harry shrugged and stepped up to Ollivander, who handed him a first wand to try. A second, third and fourth very quickly followed, and they started going through Ollivander's stock rapidly as no wand fit Harry. After some twenty wands, Harry started wondering how common this was.

"Don't worry," Ollivander said when he asked about it. "There's a wand for everyone, sometimes it simply takes longer than other times." A little later, he added, "hard to figure out what fits you, Mr Potter. Of course, in the end the wand chooses the wizard."

Eventually, Ollivander pulled another box from a shelf. "I thought this wand would be a likely fit for Miss Tomasha Riddle, but perhaps… perhaps it was destined for you all along. Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather. Give it a try."

Harry swung the wand, which gave a rain of gold and silver sparks.

"There it is! Curious…" Ollivander muttered as he took the wand back. "Very curious…"

"What is?" Harry asked.

Ollivander glanced between the trio for a moment. "This wand," he started, slowly, "this wand shares a core with the wand that gave you the scar that is currently hidden under your glamour. They not only are both phoenix feather, but from the same phoenix. Curious… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter."

Harry wasn't sure how to reply to that, but one thing made him wonder. Why had Ollivander thought this wand might be a good fit for Tomasha? He paid the seven galleons and took his wand back, placing it with the rest of his purchases.

Tomasha's wand was found remarkably quickly – the very first wand she closed her hand around produced a display of silver and green sparks, much like Delphini's wand had. And considering how well Ollivander had apparently read what wand would fit Tomasha, he looked remarkably shocked.

"What are the odds?" he mused out loud after a few seconds. "Thirteen and a half inch, yew, phoenix feather."

"I'm… not sure what you mean," Tomasha replied.

"I've had this wand in my store for several decades," Ollivander said carefully. "I have not tried this wand with potential buyers for a long time, and in fact the only reason I considered it for you is because of your… heritage."

A heritage which Harry still didn't know, he realized. After some time, his curiosity into Tomasha and Delphini's actual parents had mostly disappeared, but now it suddenly flared up again. However, no one reacted to that statement, and Thorfinn went to finish up the purchase.

"Shall we go?" Euphemia asked.

"Can we practice at home?" Delphini replied.

"Not yet," Thorfinn said. "I'll have to check at the Ministry whether our home is covered sufficiently. We don't want to receive a storm of angry owls, do we?"

"Alright," Delphini said, already sulking.

Normally, Harry would probably have tried to distract her by reminding her wandless magic doesn't get picked up by the detection system, but instead he was lost in thought. He didn't have a lot to go on for Tomasha and Delphini's parentage, and neither the girls nor the Rowles were very forthcoming. However, he did remember seeing Tomasha's middle name once. Merope. Perhaps that, together with their surname Riddle, would give him a starting point to find out more once they were at Hogwarts. After all, he _did_ remember Tomasha mentioning one time that their father had also been a wizard, so Hogwarts hopefully had records of a Riddle or, failing that, a Merope.

* * *

**AN: Note that the pound Harry converts the worth of his possessions to is the 1991 pound. Multiply by roughly 2 for a 2020 pound, roughly 2.25 for a 2020 euro and roughly 2.5 for a 2020 American dollar.**


	6. 1-5: Gryffindorish Slytherins

**AN: Alright, reworked AN because I started rambling and didn't want to paint your screen black with bolded letters (or white, if you use dark mode). Still didn't fully work out. Anyway. A major component of this fic is making the wizarding world realistic and consistent. Part of that means the addition of a good number of original characters. These original characters will play as small a role in the plot as I can manage.**

**AN: Tomasha is obviously an exception to the above. To expand on this would give away information I want to keep to myself for now. I do wish to make on general statement, however: I do not believe there to be any aspect of the fic that does not make sense, on the condition ****that you have full information****. And full information will (eventually) be available to the reader.**

**AN: And on the topic of actual writing, I have good reason to believe I will be able to write more consistently. No promises, but my goal is to upload a chapter more or less every 2-3 weeks for this fic. If I end up writing even faster than that (which is best-case scenario only), I will be taking on a second project and alternate work on both. **_**Only**_** if it still allows for more than one RotA chapter per month on average.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Gryffindorish Slytherins**

* * *

"Rubeus, please come in!" Albus called.

The half-giant stepped into the office, and Albus enlarged the chair in front of his desk for Hagrid to sit in.

"Yeh wanted to speak with me, professor?"

"Yes," Albus replied, smiling as the man took the seat. "You went to give Harry his letter and take him shopping, didn't you? Can you tell me about him?"

"Oh, he was very polite," Hagrid replied. "Much better than his relatives. Immediately introduced himself, asked if I was there to give him his letter."

A spark of worry shot through Albus, but it was probably nothing. Those letters would have dominated his life for the last week. "What do you mean, much better than his family?"

"They never tol' him anything!" Hagrid said, heated. "Didn' tell him 'bout his parents at all. Didn' even tell him 'bout our world!"

Albus relaxed internally, though outwardly he showed worry. "He didn't know about magic?" he asked with concern.

"He did," Hagrid replied, and immediately Albus's worry shot up again. How? "He tol' me there's two girls his age that live down the street, witches. They tol' him 'bout our world, and his parents, who _he_ is."

"I'm glad to hear that," Albus lied blatantly. "Did he tell you more about these friends of his?"

Hagrid shook his head. "We didn' talk much, jus' went to sleep an' the next day I went back home with him and his relatives an' he went off to go shoppin' with those girls."

Albus raised his eyebrows. "So you didn't take him shopping yourself?"

Hagrid again shook his head. "Figured it'd be better for him to go shoppin' with his friends. Gave him his key an' went to Gringotts to get yeh the Stone." He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before taking the package out and handing it to Albus.

"Thank you, Rubeus. How's the cerberus coming along?"

"I should have him here 'bout next week," Hagrid replied. "Are yeh sure it's a good idea to keep one o' those in the castle, professor?"

"He'll be kept behind a locked door, Rubeus, no students will encounter him. And all the permits and everything have been taken care of."

"Alrigh' then," Hagrid said. "Anything else, professor?"

"No, not right now, Rubeus. Enjoy your day."

* * *

"How're you even getting to that freak school?" Vernon muttered from behind the newspaper on the morning of September 1st.

"I'm going to London with Tomasha and Delph," Harry replied as he checked whether he had everything. "From there we take the train to Scotland."

"The train? Have all flying carpets got punctures or something?" Vernon laughed over his own joke.

"No," Harry replied, heading for the door. "Flying carpets were outlawed a few centuries ago." Without saying goodbye - it wasn't like his relatives would appreciate it anyway - Harry left the house and walked over to the home of his friends, trailing his trunk behind him.

"Today's the day!" Tomasha said with a bright smile the moment he entered the room, and even Delphini looked excited.

"Remember," Euphemia said, shrinking Harry's trunk, "Platform Nine-Three-Quarters. Speak clearly, or you'll get lost in the floo. It's ten fifteen, so we're easily on time, the floo's not ten minutes traveling, it's just after the Leaky Cauldron. Who wants first?"

"I'll go," Tomasha volunteered, already sprinkling floo into the hearth. "Platform Nine-Three-Quarters!" She disappeared in flames.

"It's a shame Thorfinn can't be there to see you leave. Harry, you next?"

Harry called out the destination and stepped inside, patiently waiting out all the spinning. Today he would finally go into the Wizarding World while recognizable as Harry Potter. For the opportunity, he was wearing his finest robes, black silk with the silver stag of House Potter embroidered on his heart. Along that sigil, a small trim of gold. Though not part of the Potter crest, Harry hoped it might help serve as a reminder that he was not only Lord Potter, but also the Boy-Who-Lived.

He didn't particularly like having to plan such things, but it was the game of nobles, and the only thing he could achieve by not playing it was loss of reputation and status. As Tomasha often put it, this was the mask he'd have to put forward for the world to see.

The spinning slowed, and Harry stepped onto a bustling train platform. Teenagers were running around everywhere, reuniting enthusiastically, talking, laughing. Their parents were trying to make their way through the crowds, seeking their offspring, lost luggage, or other parents to play politics with - some friendly, some outright hostile. That was no surprise, of course. Hogwarts was first and foremost the school of the upper class, the nobles. That didn't describe all students - there were always a number of muggleborn, not to mention many children of rich but non-noble families - but it was definitely what set Hogwarts apart from the dozen or so other magical schools in the country.

"We're here," Euphemia said behind him, flanked by Delphini. "You three should probably find a compartment early. That way you'll get one for yourselves, at least at first. It's always better to invite someone in than to have to ask for a spot."

"We know," Delphini drawled. "Well, might as well go then." She eyed the bright red carriages.

"Goodbye," Harry told Euphemia. "I'll send Hedwig with a letter occasionally." He'd named his owl after the Christian patron saint of orphans. It had seemed appropriate to him, and the owl - who was both quite picky and scarily smart - seemed to like the name.

"Goodbye, Harry. I hope you'll have a good time. And remember, it doesn't matter to us which House you'll be in. Whether it's Slytherin, Gryffindor or something else, you'll be welcome with us. Girls, I know the both of you are probably going to be Slytherins, if Harry ends up in Gryffindor, don't you dare abandon him."

Harry snorted. "Delph might get into Gryffindor as well."

"Might not!" Delphini replied.

Harry smirked. "We'll see."

"Goodbye," Euphemia said again, echoed by the three future first years. They stepped into the nearest carriage and took an empty compartment. The time until the train left was filled with idle chatter, though Harry was at the same time nearly unable to contain his excitement.

Just as the train started moving, the door slid open.

"Hello," a red-haired boy said, looking between the three of them. "Uh, can I sit here? Everywhere is full."

Harry immediately made an estimate of the boy. Though he was wearing wizarding clothing, it was poor quality. To Harry, that meant he was unlikely to be part of the families that stood on traditions and such. Which meant Harry wasn't going to bother with it either.

"Full?" Harry snorted. "Let me guess, you just didn't want to search the train so when you saw three other first years you figured you'd just ask to sit there." The boy seemed to get angry at that, but Harry laughed. "Hey, I'm just teasing you. I'd have done the same if I'd been alone. Come, sit."

"Oh," the boy deflated. "Uh…" He seemed to be searching for words. After a moment, he opened the door further and pulled in his trunk. "I'm Ron Weasley," he finally introduced himself.

"Pleased to meet you," Harry replied, shaking his hand. "This is Delphini Riddle, this is her sister Tomasha, and I'm Harry Potter."

Ron froze. "Harry _Potter_?"

"The one and only. As far as I know, at least."

"Uh… pleased to meet you," Ron replied, his eyes darting to Harry's forehead.

"Sit down," Harry said again, and this time Ron did react. Moments later, he seemed to realize that he shouldn't be staring at Harry's forehead, and instead looked at Harry's companions.

"So you three already know each other?"

Tomasha nodded. "We're neighbors."

"Neighbors?" He looked at Harry. "I thought you grew up in secret, in Potter Manor or something."

Harry shook his head. "Never even seen Potter Manor. I grew up with my muggle aunt. Tomasha and Delph moved in a few houses over four years ago."

"That sounds… boring," Ron said. "I always imagined you grew up with tutors and learning magic for years already and everything. Not that I mean anything wrong with that."

"Don't worry. So, what House do you think you'll end up in?"

"Gryffindor!" Ron replied immediately. Knowing what he did of the Weasley family, Harry figured he shouldn't be surprised. "The House of the brave and courageous. I bet you'll be in there too, right?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think it's going to be either Gryffindor or Slytherin, but it could be all four, I think."

"Surely you won't be in Slytherin! You-Know-Who was in Slytherin!"

"So was my grandmother," Harry replied. "Wasn't yours, too? Cedrella Weasley née Black, right?"

"What?" Ron asked. "Grandma Weasley? How would you even know that?"

"Noble Houses and everything," Harry said. "Your father's a Lord, so I learned about him and his parents too. Arthur Weasley _is_ your father, right? Or is he your uncle?"

"Uh, yeah, he's my father. But how'd you learn about that if you grew up with muggles?"

"Tomasha taught me. And her foster parents, Lord Rowle and his wife."

"But the Rowles are a Dark family! Why would they teach you anything?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I know they were friendly with Voldemort" – he ignored the gasp – "in the war, but they were changing their mind already before I even met them. It was a little strange at first, even if I didn't realize _why_, but I like them. They've helped me a lot with everything. So have Tomasha and Delph, by the way."

"Y-you said his name," Ron stuttered a few seconds after Harry finished speaking.

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "Oh, Voldemort." He shrugged. "I never got into the habit of not saying it."

"Oh." It remained silent for a few seconds. "So where do you think you'll be sorted?" Ron asked the girls.

"Slytherin," both answered immediately. Ron looked back and forth between them.

"Delph could also be a Gryffindor," Harry said. "I'd be very surprised if Tomasha ended anywhere that isn't Slytherin, though."

"I'm going to be a Slytherin," Delphini said.

"Could be both."

"Slytherin."

"Could be—"

"Stop it," Tomasha cut in. She turned to Ron. "They've been doing that for days. Sorry, Ron. May I call you Ron?"

"Uh, sure."

"Call me Tomasha then."

"Harry."

An unintelligible grunt.

"You get used to it," Harry answered Ron's questioning look. "Just call her Delphini. Don't expect her to call you 'Ron' though. She still calls me 'Potter'."

Now, Harry was on the receiving end of a very threatening glare. "Hey! I wouldn't have to translate if you'd actually answer. Okay, okay, I'll stop." The slight buildup of magic in Delphini's hand disappeared again. Harry doubted Ron had even noticed that part.

"Anyway," Tomasha said. "Son of Arthur Weasley, right? If I remember correctly you have a big family, don't you?"

"I do," Ron replied, now sounding a little shy or embarrassed. Harry wasn't sure which.

"So what's it like, in such a busy household?" Tomasha asked.

Soon, they were talking about all kinds of topics, from Ron's family to Quidditch teams – Ron was a big fan of the sport – Hogwarts classes and more. Before long, the snack cart came by, and Harry decided to buy each of them some candy, figuring there was no harm in spending some money on a budding friendship, and his long-time friends didn't have a lot of money for themselves, only whatever pocket money the Rowles gave them.

Some time later, a knock sounded on the compartment door. After a moment, it slipped open and a face framed with bushy brown hair peeked in. Another first year, Harry guessed.

"Have you seen a toad by any chance?" the girl asked. "Neville here's lost his."

The door opened further to reveal a round-faced boy.

"Neville Longbottom?" Harry asked, standing up.

"Yeah," the boy nodded.

Harry stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter, pleased to meet you." He turned to the girl. "And you are?"

Said girl looked a little flustered. "You're Harry Potter?" she finally asked, hurriedly followed with "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

He shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Granger."

She looked back and forth between him and Neville for a moment, biting her lip and clearly wanting to ask something. "How'd you know who I was talking about?" she finally said.

"The wizarding world isn't that big," Harry replied. "And the Longbottom family is quite well-known. I take it you're muggleborn?"

The girl looked a little hesitant at that. "I am."

Harry smiled. "Don't worry, that doesn't make any difference to me. But let me introduce the others in the compartment. These are Tomasha and Delphini Riddle, twins, and this is Ron Weasley, who we met here on the train just a few hours ago. You said something about a toad?"

"Yeah," Neville replied, seemingly on the brink of crying. "He keeps getting away."

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Oh," Hermione said, suddenly talking a mile a minute. "Are you going to do magic? Have you practiced already? Can you even do that? Professor McGonagall told me I shouldn't use magic at home. I've read all the books though, I hope I won't have too much of a disadvantage."

"Tomasha and Delph live in a wizarding home," Harry replied. "So if we use magic there, the Ministry won't notice it. But we've also practiced some wandless magic before." He stepped into the corridor. "_Accio Neville's toad_."

Hermione gasped. "The summoning spell is a fourth year spell! You can already cast it? And isn't wandless magic really hard?"

"Wandless magic mostly takes time," Harry replied. "It took each of us months to learn to summon something, and that's the easiest thing to do. But it does make it much easier to then learn the spell with a wand." He caught the toad as it flew through the corridor. "I think I needed maybe an hour to do a summoning spell with a wand." He handed the toad to Neville. "There you go."

"Thank you!" Neville exclaimed.

"Next time," Tomasha spoke up behind Harry, "you could just go to a prefect. They each have a badge on their robes to show their position, they could help you out too."

"Of course you know that," Harry commented over his shoulder.

Tomasha shrugged. "It's in _Hogwarts: A History_."

That elicited an excited squeal from Hermione. "I love _Hogwarts: A History_! Have you—"

Harry cut her off, realizing this was his last chance in the near future. "How about you two come and sit with us, instead of standing here in the doorway?"

The journey continued much the same, though with a little more noise in the air. In particular Hermione seemed to hardly be able to stop talking, and Harry thought Tomasha was the only one who didn't get enough of her drive for academics. However, after some time the door opened again, causing the compartment to fall silent. Harry immediately recognized Draco Malfoy from last month, now flanked by two larger boys.

Malfoy scanned the compartment for several seconds before speaking. "Three muggleborn, a Weasley and near-squib Longbottom, Potter? I knew I shouldn't expect much from you, but this is truly disappointing."

Harry raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "First of all, that is _Lord_ Potter to you, Heir Malfoy. Also, all of these people have been decent company, contrary to you, both when we met previously and just now. But then, you are under the impression that a future title is a substitute for manners, aren't you? As far as I know, you were not invited into this compartment, and even if you had been, I'm afraid there's no more room. Please leave. Oh, and the Riddles aren't muggleborn."

"Oh? Then why haven't I heard of them?" Malfoy asked haughtily.

Harry stood up and moved to the door and put his hand on the handle, causing Malfoy to grip his wand. "Traditionally, the Malfoys are Slytherins. Now, I'm not entirely certain if you'll live up to that no doubt _proud_ family legacy with how you're seeking out conflict like a Gryffindor. However, if you do, I have no doubt that Tomasha will be able to effectively convince you she has magical blood." Without waiting for a reply, Harry closed the door, while Malfoy was still busy figuring out if he wanted to risk a magical fight before even reaching Hogwarts.

Harry quickly drew his wand to cast a sticking charm on the door and make sure Malfoy and his goons couldn't open the door again, then returned to his seat as several people spoke at the same time.

"Did you just say a _Malfoy_ could become a Gryffindor?"

"What does that 'Lord Potter' mean?"

"Are you sure we should reveal that?"

Harry held up his hands. "One at a time, please. Tomasha, I think it's a good idea if you do, you'll need the leg up in Slytherin. I'm keeping it to myself, and I suppose for Delph it depends on her sorting."

"I'm going to be a Slytherin."

"Not again," Tomasha groaned.

"Again what?" Hermione asked.

"Those two have been going at it for days. Harry believes there's a good chance Delph ends up in Gryffindor, and Delph doesn't even want to hear it."

"Anyway," Harry said. "I didn't hear what else was said." Both others repeated their questions, and Harry decided to answer Ron first.

"With how he's acting? Yeah, I could see Malfoy ending up Gryffindor. Just like Delph, really. Except I know Delph well enough to know that there's a good deal of Slytherin in there, too. I've only met Malfoy twice, and both times he acted rather Gryffindorish."

"You can't be serious!"

Harry shrugged, then smirked. "Just imagine how Lord Malfoy would react if his heir became a Gryffindor."

"What are you talking about with this Lord and Heir business?" Hermione asked.

"The wizarding world operates on a nobility system," Harry explained. "That boy is heir to the Malfoy family, who are currently one of the most influential families in the Wizengamot – that's like the muggle House of Lords. I myself am the last Potter, which makes me Lord Potter."

"But you're eleven!"

"And?"

"That's far too young to be involved in politics."

"Well, I'm not really involved. According to the will of my parents, the Potter seat is to vote along with Lord Dumbledore – that's the Headmaster, one and the same – until I take up the seat myself, which I can do at any point. However, if I do it at too young an age, people won't take me very seriously yet, so it's better to wait a little longer."

"And why didn't you mention it earlier? It sounded like your title is pretty important."

Harry shrugged. "I hope it's already clear to you that Malfoy is an asshole. As he is also from an old-fashioned family, he puts a lot of importance on those titles and everything. So I just shove it into his face that I'm of a higher rank than him whenever he is being annoying. You're all nice, so I'm not going to insist on titles or anything with you. Most of the Light families don't do so anymore, in fact. I bet Neville didn't introduce himself to you as Heir Neville of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, but in ten years from now he's probably going to be one of the most powerful people in the entire country."

Neville seemed to shrink when Harry called attention to him, but Hermione didn't shift her questions to the boy.

"Wait, so Neville, and you, and that Malfoy boy… how many Lords are there?"

"Slightly over forty," Harry replied. "Quite a few heirs in our year, actually, and me as Lord Potter, and there's also Lady Bones in our year. Susan, I believe her first name is."

"But… isn't there all kinds of etiquette and everything that I would need to know about that? And are there really that many at Hogwarts? What about other schools? Surely Hogwarts isn't the only magical school, right?"

"The etiquette is mostly important in Slytherin," Harry replied, "and with how many Slytherins dislike muggleborns, etiquette wouldn't be your biggest problem if you'd get sorted there. If that does happen, those of us who are also Slytherins could help you out, though. In the other Houses, as long as you're respectful and learn about the etiquette in time, you should be fine.

"And yes, there are a lot of nobles at Hogwarts, as it's always been the school of the nobility, though there's a tradition of also inviting a number of muggleborn every year, like you. There's like… a dozen or so magical schools in the country, total."

"I had no idea there were so many differences," Hermione said. "Between the muggle and magical world."

"It's like a different country," Tomasha said. "Different laws, different customs, and so on."

Most of the remaining time in the train was spent discussing the many differences between the muggle and magical world, and before too long an announcer told everyone to change into their robes.

"Where are your trunks?" Hermione asked when the students were instructed to leave their luggage behind.

Harry grabbed his shrunken trunk out of his pocket to show her. "Tomasha and Delph's foster mum shrunk them for us before we left. Once we've been sorted and arrive in our dorms, we simply tap them with our wand and they unshrink."

"But you're supposed to leave them on the train."

"Well, I doubt you'd want to carry your luggage along the entire evening until you're in your dorm, right? Not all parents can or will shrink the luggage, so there's the option to leave it behind." He led the entire group out of the train onto the sunlit platform.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a familiar voice boomed. "All right there, Harry?" Hagrid asked when he and his group approached him.

"Sure," Harry replied. "We're not going with the older years?"

"No," Hagrid grinned, "got somethin' special for the firs' years, like every year." He again called out for the first years to join him, and soon the group found themselves separated from the older students.

"Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, looks like we're complete," Hagrid said. "Follow along."

He led them over a steep narrow path between bushes. With every step, it seemed to get darker.

"What's going on?" Harry heard Neville ask.

"Don' worry," Hagrid's voice boomed over the crowd again. "It's part of the wards. Yer first time seein' Hogwarts will look like it's night, far more beautiful."

Indeed, it continued to grow darker as if night was rapidly falling, and when they arrived at a lakeside a few minutes later, they could see a night sky overhead.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid instructed. After some scrambling, Harry ended up in a boat with Tomasha and Delphini, while Neville, Ron and Hermione took another boat. The last to join Harry's boat was a brown-haired girl who introduced herself as Sally Smith.

On Hagrid's lead, the boats started moving, following the large man's boat over the lake. After about a minute, they rounded a corner, and in front of them Hogwarts was suddenly displayed in all its majesty.

The castle rose high on what seemed to be a cliffside, towers jutting out everywhere. Thousands of lights lit up the windows of the building, inviting anyone watching to come inside, even in late summer when the temperature outside was comfortable despite the location. The castle was enormous, far larger than a normal castle would be – at least as far as Harry knew – almost as if it were trying to imitate one of the surrounding mountains.

"Wow," Harry breathed, even as he almost subconsciously stored away the memory to preserve it as well as possible. Around him, the reaction was very much the same as the boats continued to silently glide over the water, hushed whispers but no one looking to break the sense of awe that hung over them all.

Slowly, the boats inched closer and closer to the cliff, until Harry noticed a small cave in front of them. Hagrid ducked as the boats made their way inside, quickly entering a small, underground harbor where the cavern expanded high enough even Hagrid could stand straight.

The boats came to a rest on the shore, and Harry and his future classmates climbed out of them while Hagrid stepped up to a large door and knocked several times.

Almost immediately, a tall, black-haired witch opened the door.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Professor McGonagall immediately led them into a huge entrance hall, and from there through a series of corridors lit by flaming torches. Despite their seemingly medieval nature, the torches spread a surprisingly even light that Harry attributed to magic. After a minute or two walking, McGonagall stopped them in yet another room Harry couldn't - yet - tell apart from the others. Behind a door, they could hear a multitude of muted voices.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the professor said, turning to the group. "Soon, the Opening Feast will begin in the Great Hall, however all of you will first be sorted into your respective Houses. During your seven years at Hogwarts, these Houses will function as your family. You will have your classes with your House, you will share a dormitory with your House, and spend your free time in your House's common room.

"The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, each with their noble history and each has produced formidable wizards and witches. You will earn House points for completing exercises, answering questions and so on, and will lose House points for breaking the rules. At the end of the year, the House that has received the most points over the year will be awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope you will be a credit to whichever House you end up in.

"Now, the Sorting Ceremony is starting in a few minutes, please be patient for the moment."

With that, McGonagall left through the door, momentarily magnifying the volume of the people behind it. As soon as she was gone, students started proposing their theories of what the sorting would involve. Though Harry didn't know what it would include either – the Rowles refused to say anything other than that it was traditionally kept secret – he highly doubted it would require fighting a troll or casting magic. In particular the latter, as the muggleborns wouldn't have cast a spell in their life yet.

Suddenly, a group of ghosts floated through a wall, seemingly in deep conversation about someone called "Peeves". Several children let out screams, though Harry felt mostly intrigued, never having seen a ghost up close before. After a few seconds, the ghost suddenly 'noticed' the group of first-years in a way that was so fake Harry doubted even the muggleborns would fall for it, but just then McGonagall came back and shooed the ghosts away.

"Please form a line," McGonagall told the first-years, "and follow me into the hall." Said hall was one of the most amazing rooms Harry had ever been in – 'room' didn't do the place justice, though. The Great Hall was... well, exactly that – great. A long table stood at the head, holding some thirty professors sitting on both sides, though half of them had currently turned their chairs so they could see the rest of the hall. Perpendicular to this table stood four even longer tables that stretched throughout the entire room, occupied by hundreds of students. In between them, near the edge of the raised platform that also held the head table, stood a single three-legged stool with an old hat resting on it.

Meanwhile, as Harry heard Hermione explain in hushed tones, the ceiling above them was enchanted as if they were looking straight at the late afternoon sky, where a few sun-lit clouds drifted over.

The entire room fell silent, and all attention seemed to be on the previously mentioned hat, so Harry found himself watching it too. After a few seconds of silence, it suddenly began to sing about the Houses and their virtues. The cunning of Slytherin, the hard work and loyalty of Hufflepuff, the wit and learning of Ravenclaw, and the courage of Gryffindor.

When the Sorting Hat finished, the Hall burst into applause, and after that McGonagall started reading names.

"Abbott, Hannah."

The blonde – Noble and Ancient House of Abbott, Harry couldn't help but fill in – made her way to the stool and put on the hat.

After a few seconds, the Hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!", causing said House to erupt in applause as she made her way over.

"Bones, Susan," McGonagall called out once the cheering had calmed, and the girl made her way over to the stool as Harry made sure to remember her face. He and she were the only Lord and Lady in their year – though Neville was likely to join them before the end of Hogwarts – which made them the politically highest ranked students. In fact, Harry thought as the Hat once again cried out "HUFFLEPUFF!", Susan Bones was the highest ranked Hogwarts student, period.

The sorting continued, while Harry did his best to match names and faces together. Students were divided over the four Houses, but for a while no names really stood out to him, until it was the turn of…

"Granger, Hermione."

The bushy-haired girl enthusiastically made her way to the stool and put on the Hat. It took half a minute before the hat called out her House.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Greengrass, Daphne," McGonagall called next, and an aristocratic-looking blonde girl made her way to the stool. It only took moments for the Hat to decide.

"SLYTHERIN!"

A few more students passed by, and then it was Neville's turn. The boy almost stumbled on his robes as he made his way to the Hat, and sat there for over two minutes before a decision was finally made, and it wasn't the one Harry had expected.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Malfoy, Draco." Harry carefully remained silent. Whichever House it would be – and Harry thought Gryffindor and Slytherin were the two most likely options – Harry would prefer it to not be the one he himself would end up in.

Again, the Hat took some time, almost a minute, before making its choice:

"SLYTHERIN!"

A few more names, then McGonagall arrived at the P.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

The girl made her way to the stool, and sat on it for just a few seconds before being sorted.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry had somewhat expected to be next, but McGonagall called out "Patil, Padma", which made him remember the twins of that family were in his year as well. Surprisingly, the first twin – Padma – ended up in Ravenclaw while second – Parvati – was sorted in Gryffindor. But then, Harry figured, just because twins _look_ the same that doesn't mean they _are_ the same. Another girl, Sally-Anne Perks, got sorted next, and then it finally _was_ time for…

"Potter, Harry."

Harry ignored the sudden whispers as he made his way towards the stool, keeping a tight grip on his occlumency to remain calm. He'd probably need that a lot, these first few weeks. He sat down and placed the Hat on his head, where it promptly slipped down over his eyes.

"Hmm," a voice said. The Hat, Harry figured. "Difficult. Plenty of courage, not a bad mind either. Talent, a desire to prove yourself more than just the Boy-Who-Lived…"

_Gryffindor or Slytherin, isn't it?_ Harry thought.

"Gryffindor or Slytherin," the Hat replied. "You'd make a good fit in either House, Mr Potter."

_Sort me in whichever House you think is best for me._

"Not trying to get into your House of preference, but rather leaving judgement to an entity you know to be experienced? Now that's not a very common trait in those your age, however good it is to have. It is also very SLYTHERIN!"

The last word boomed through the Hall, and Harry felt as if he could hear the shocked silence while he pulled off the Hat. The Boy-Who-Lived just got sorted into Slytherin. Moments later, however, a cheer went up from the Slytherin table, and Harry placed the Hat on the stool as he made his way to his new House, keeping his eye on his new Housemates, and not looking around for reactions.

He sat down just as another boy was sorted into Ravenclaw, meaning he was in time for the sorting of…

"Riddle, Delphini."

Though Harry hadn't been looking for it, he saw the headmaster turn his head in a sudden way completely contrary to his well-known calm demeanor, though any shock was gone a moment later. However, by keeping an eye on the man Harry noticed he was paying very careful attention to Delphini, much more than he seemed to have been doing with earlier students.

Meanwhile, Delphini had put on the Hat, and once again it took some forty seconds before it came to a decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry cheered for her as she made her way over with a smug look on her face that screamed 'told you'. At the same time, however, Harry kept an eye on the headmaster while McGonagall announced Tomasha. Though it was better masked this time, the headmaster gave a definite reaction to her name.

Tomasha calmly made her way to the stool, and before she'd even properly placed the Hat on her head, it had already come to the expected conclusion.

"SLYTHERIN!"

With a grin on her face, she made her way over to Harry and her sister. Still, though, Harry couldn't help but keep an eye on the headmaster, who seemed unhappy with this particular sorting, even if he was clapping like the rest of the teachers.

As the next students were sorted, the headmaster's demeanor slowly relaxed, and by the time the girl Harry had met in the boat was called, it was back to normal.

"Smith, Sally," sat on the stool for some ten seconds before the hat called out Hufflepuff – not that Harry was surprised, if he remembered correctly the Smith family descended from Helga Hufflepuff herself. "Smith, Zacharias," known by Harry as Heir Smith, was sorted in the House as well.

A few more sortings, and then one last familiar name came by.

"Weasley, Ron," eagerly sat down on the stool and was quickly sorted in Gryffindor, leading to loud congratulations from two redheads who, Harry figured, were probably his older twin brothers. Soon after, the sorting was over and Dumbledore stood, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the Hall.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you, however now is not the right time for that, as you are all no doubt hungry. Therefore, I will keep it at this: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Food appeared on all the tables, and Harry immediately dug in.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was carefully watching the new first-year students when they filed into the Great Hall before their sorting. In fact, he had been looking for one student specifically, and it took him a little longer than he'd thought to find the boy.

Harry Potter was not – as he was supposed to be – scrawny, somewhat malnourished, ungroomed and skittish. In fact, he was rather the opposite. He wasn't tall by any means, but he appeared well-fed, confident, and seemed to have put good care in his appearance, wearing fine robes befitting the famous child Lord of a prestigious House.

Albus had heard about the boy from Hagrid, and while he had expected Harry to be somewhat knowledgeable about the magical world, he had definitely not expected the boy to both look and act the part of a well-taught member of a noble family.

According to Hagrid, Harry had gotten to know two girls a few doors over who were also magical, but Albus had assumed they would be of a lower standing in the magical world, as no noble family would ever move into a plain muggle neighborhood. But somehow, that seemed to be exactly what had happened. So who?

The girls on both sides of Harry were unknown to Albus, one of them with blonde hair – probably dyed – and silver tips – definitely dyed – and the other with black hair. That second one in particular, taller than most girls, seemed a little familiar to Albus, though he had no idea why.

While Albus had been lost in thought, the Sorting Hat had sung its song, and the sorting had started. Albus patiently waited it out, applauding every sorting while internally worrying whether Harry would end up in Gryffindor or not. The Potters were a famous Gryffindor family, and his parents had been exemplary Gryffindors themselves. Hopefully, Hagrid had also had the opportunity to influence the boy somewhat, though most of that plan had come crashing down already, and Albus didn't have much hope for this last part either.

Harry's ancestry would indicate a Gryffindor sorting, and Albus knew that while parentage was not everything, it wasn't uncommon for family traits to persist across generations. On the other hand, he himself had ensured that the boy would have a hard childhood, which could have encouraged the nurturing of Slytherin traits. Most prevalently cunning, of course, but a bad home life could also make a child more ambitious. In all fairness, Albus had to admit to himself, he had not considered this risk adequately, as he had fully believed he would be able to prejudice the boy against Slytherin by controlling the events around his re-introduction to the magical world.

But then, how could he possibly have predicted that a magical family with knowledge of noble house etiquette would move in _right next door_ to Harry Potter?

It defied all reason.

And not only that, a family that was willing to teach the Boy-Who-Lived, but apparently did _not_ feel the need to inform Albus of his terrible childhood. He would have thought that every family that would aid Harry Potter would have contacted him, while every family that would not have contacted him would have killed Harry Potter instead.

The sorting continued in front of him, and then came the boy that occupied Albus's thoughts.

Most of the Hall, of course, had not been nearly as focused on the boy. And even if they _had_ recognized him, they wouldn't have thought something was off – the boy looked exactly like one would expect Harry Potter to look when unaware of Albus's attempted interventions. Harry put on the Sorting Hat, and Albus silently wished for Gryffindor.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat called out.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

Well, perhaps it was salvageable. Just because Harry was sorted into Slytherin, that did not mean Albus could not manipulate him to – hopefully – his death, and perhaps in some ways it might even be an advantage, as there was a possibility that the traditionally mostly Dark House would shun the symbol of the Light.

A boy got sorted into Ravenclaw and McGonagall continued with the next name.

"Riddle, Delphini."

Oh, _shit_. Surely not... to his horror, Albus saw one of Harry's friends – the blonde girl – step towards the stool. As the girl sat down, Albus frantically tried to determine her magical strength without being blatant enough for anyone nearby him to catch on. It took longer than he had expected for her to be sorted into Slytherin, though not long enough for a precise measurement.

However, the measurement he did get was bad enough. This girl was definitely near the upper end of power. Close to, if not equal to, Albus himself, Gellert, Harry Potter and – of course – the man who was most likely (Albus almost shuddered at the thought) her father.

"Riddle, Tomasha."

Of course there were two. _Of course_ there were two. Albus suddenly realized who this girl had reminded him of. Tom Riddle. Her father. The same hair, the same eyes, the same tall stature – even if it was a little less pronounced than in Tom – and the same charm in every movement.

"SLYTHERIN!"

And the same blink-and-you'll-miss-it Slytherin sorting.

As if this day could not have gotten any worse.

His only hope was that the very crude measurement he'd gotten of her strength was accurate. He couldn't say much, but that level of truly, truly dangerous wizard or witch seemed unlikely. But then, one unexpected threat in addition to a threat that was much more confident than expected was bad enough.

Albus barely paid any attention to the rest of the sorting, but once it was over, he made his customary brief speech. During the feast, he made sure to keep close watch on the Slytherin table, where Harry and the Riddles were clearly already best buddies – _Harry Potter_ friends with _Voldemort's daughters_, how was that even possible? It appeared that Greengrass and Davis were getting to know the three, however Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Bulstrode and Nott seemed to be forming their own group. Or, more likely, it had formed before Hogwarts already.

Albus wondered if it was possible to fuel a rivalry between the two emerging groups, and hopefully get Slytherin House to support Malfoy's group. It could help ostracize Harry Potter and Delphini Riddle from the rest of their House. Tomasha Riddle, Greengrass and Davis would be acceptable collateral.

He sighed. He _hated_ thinking in such terms. He _hated_ turning people into 'collateral damage'. But at the same time, there was no way he could simply let the situation be. Harry Potter and Delphini Riddle were quite simply too powerful to be left alone.

The feast went by quickly, and after the main dishes had been replaced by desserts and the desserts eaten, Albus stood, again drawing the attention of the student body.

"A few more words now that you are all properly fed and watered. First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden for all students unless accompanied by a teacher. And a few older years should do well to remember such, too.

"Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that all magic is strictly forbidden in the halls. As you are hopefully well aware, magic can be very unpredictable, so no practicing unsupervised either, unless specifically sanctioned by one of your teachers or in the presence of a prefect or the Head Boy or Girl.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, for the exact date please consult your common room's notice board.

"I would also like to introduce several new professors. First, this is Quirinius Quirrell, no doubt a familiar face to some of you as Muggle Studies teacher. He will instead be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, joined by his also new colleague Martin Boot. Charity Burbage is now a full-time Muggle Studies teacher, and please welcome Sarah Hayley as part-time Muggle Studies professor. As always, please check your schedule when it is handed out tomorrow to see which teacher you will have for every subject."

Albus waited a moment for the welcoming applause to die down. "Last of all, I would like to make absolutely clear that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

* * *

"Well, that sounds ominous," Harry said.

"I don't think we can assume he's joking," Delphini added.

Before they could discuss that closing statement further, Dumbledore called on everyone to sing the school song – 'pick your own tune', as if a bunch of teenagers trying to sing the _same_ tune wouldn't be hard enough on the ear – and conducted it with his wand, conjuring the words for all those who didn't know them.

When the last voices finally died down, Dumbledore wished them all good night, and Harry got up with his fellow first years, the Slytherin prefects calling for them to come along. Despite feeling tired after the very long day, Harry made sure to remember the path they took, as it would do no good if he had to ask directions tomorrow.

The prefects led them down into the dungeons, until finally they reached a blank wall. One of the prefects stepped up to it and clearly spoke "blood", upon which a concealed door slid open. They found themselves a cozy common room upon entering, with many comfortable chairs and couches, and two hearths with crackling fires, one on each side. Much of it was decorated in green and silver, as Harry figured was expected. The first-years were led to an open space near the center, and moments later a man with grimy black hair and equally black eyes entered the common room through a side door.

"Welcome to Slytherin House," he said, his gaze sweeping over the entire group. "I am Severus Snape, potions professor and Head of Slytherin House. If you have any issues that cannot be resolved by the prefects, or if you have issues with a prefect, you should come to me.

"As a House, we face a fair deal of prejudice from the other Hogwarts Houses. Regrettably, some of this prejudice we called upon ourselves with the past behavior of some House members, though several other sources are just as much to blame.

"However, this means that it is absolutely essential for our House to project a strong image, because if we do not do so, we will face far more severe problems than we do now. Therefore, the first rule of Slytherin is that we are united. Outside the walls of this common room, you are to never show dissent between you and other members of Slytherin House, and your actions are considered, both by others and by your fellow Slytherins, to be the actions of Slytherin House as a whole. If these actions harm the image of Slytherin House, expect to be held accountable, though only here in the common room.

"If you have a disagreement or any kind of problem with a fellow Slytherin, the same rule applies. You are to address this here, in the common room, and _only_ here. Even if you loathe a Housemate, you will not do anything that shows this to people from other Houses.

"We are also known to be the most politically inclined of Hogwarts's Houses. I would like to make clear that, again, any politicking takes place _within_ the House, and people from other Houses are not to be involved in any way. If you want to be considered the ruler of Slytherin House, you are to pursue that goal within these walls, _not_ outside them.

"In addition, as long as everything you do remains within reason, I may look the other way. However, I will _not_ tolerate blatant attacks on your Housemates, _no matter_ the reason. If a Slytherin is harmed badly enough that they need to be sent to the Hospital Wing, there _will_ be consequences, and I will not cut you any slack based on any position you may have.

"If you have questions, concerns, problems or such, approach a prefect. Only if you have issues with a prefect, if you have something that you do not want to share with a prefect for one reason or another, or if a prefect tells you to, you should approach me. Be assured that I will keep your complete confidence. Even if you have severe problems with your parents, a teacher, or even the headmaster, what you tell me will remain _fully_ between the two of us. I will not downplay your issues, and I will help you find a solution. If you happen to have issues with me specifically, and feel you cannot discuss them with me, go to the headmaster instead.

"For now, that is everything. If there are issues already, which happens more often than you might think and is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, please see me tomorrow as soon as you are able. You can find my schedule on my office door, which is right next to the common room. I will be there whenever I am not teaching classes or eating. Please let the prefects guide you to your dorms, your schedule will be handed out tomorrow morning at breakfast."

The boy prefect called Harry and the other six Slytherin boys over and led them to a corridor, then down a side corridor of the first one.

"These are the first year boy's dorms," he stated somewhat redundantly. "There's two people for every room, so one of you will sleep alone. Potter, I highly doubt any of your classmates would be stupid enough to do something to you after the warning Professor Snape just gave, however if you would prefer the solitary room, that can be done."

"I'll be fine," Harry replied. "Is there a preferred grouping?"

The prefect shook his head. "Just make pairs."

After some discussion, Harry ended up sharing a room with Blaise Zabini, while Malfoy shared one with Theodore Nott, Crabbe and Goyle shared one with each other, and Thomas Selwyn was given a room for himself. Harry quickly unshrunk his truck and changed into his night clothing, then brushed his teeth and told Zabini good night before slipping into bed and falling asleep quickly.

* * *

**AN: I literally just realized (note: about a week before day of uploading) that TendraelUmbra named the basilisk in her fic Departure from the Diary after my fem!Voldemort from Advantages of Being Sane. So yeah, that's been staring me in the face (no pun intended) for nine months... Great fic, by the way, make sure to check it out.**


	7. 1-6: The First Day

**AN: So after three months of barely writing a word, in the last three days I wrote no less than 20k (!). Most of that was on another (new) idea, but it felt absolutely trivial yesterday to switch to Riddle of the Ages and write the last 2500 words of this chapter. Which means you all get an update! For now I will go back to this other project, which I will likely continue on a while longer before uploading anything, but sometime the next week I intend to have a go at finishing the Harry/Cissy/Andi/Bella one-shot that is currently sitting on my pc as a WIP, and I also intend to write a scene for RotA every now and then, to hopefully have the next update within a month from now.**

**AN: Editing this in, because some people apparently need it: This is, as the summary states, an Alternate Universe. That means there are changes from canon - such as Arithmancy being a core subject, rather than a third year elective.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The First Day**

* * *

Determining the cause of the problem didn't take all that long. Albus could simply look up the guardians of the Riddles, and found that they were none other than Thorfinn and Euphemia Rowle, home address Privet Drive 10. The girls had only been entered to Hogwarts four years ago, in early July, rather than at the first sign of accidental magic as was common for prospective Hogwarts students.

But that wasn't the part that baffled Albus the most. The Rowles were a staunchly Dark family, always had been. He'd long suspected them of being Death Eaters, and them having custody of Voldemort's own children – from Bellatrix, it appeared, considering Delphini's middle name was Bellatrix – seemed to confirm that.

First of all. Why would the Lord of a Dark family move to a _muggle_ neighborhood? The biggest common denominator of the Dark families – and specifically the particular brand that sided with Voldemort – was that they disliked muggles. And second, if they come across none other than the _Boy-Who-Lived_, the one who vanquished their Lord, completely unprotected, unwatched, beaten down by his family both literally and figuratively, unaware of his heritage, why would they not kill him? Why, in fact, would they go for the _opposite_, and teach him?

Were they hoping to get him on their side? That seemed extremely unlikely to Albus. Even if they could imprint their worldview on the boy, he would still resent Voldemort for the murder of his parents. And more importantly, Voldemort's repeated use of the horcrux ritual would have made his mind far too rigid for him to ever consider letting Harry live when given the chance to kill him.

Albus sighed. As far as he could tell, he had access to all the facts now, yet the picture they painted made no sense. He'd also have to figure out what else had happened. The Dursleys should have starved Harry enough for him to have permanent damage, yet there was none of that, so Albus could only assume he had received nutrition potions, perhaps for years.

Yet everything, absolutely everything had remained secret. The Rowles could have gained a lot of political clout by 'rescuing' the Boy-Who-Lived while damaging Albus's reputation – it was known Albus had been the one 'hiding' Harry. Why, if they were willing to go to such lengths to undo Albus's plans, had they decided to not damage Albus's reputation? Sure, Albus could deflect any accusations well enough to keep most of his power, but it would have still been a huge victory for the Rowles. What could secrecy gain them that they would lose by making it public?

He sighed. Thinking in circles wouldn't get him anywhere. For now, he had a school to run, and breakfast was about to start. It wouldn't do for the Leader of the Light to be absent at the first breakfast of the school year. And in the meanwhile, he'd start working on ways to endear himself to Harry, because if he wanted to be able to manipulate him into lethally dangerous situations, he'd need to have the boy's trust. Returning the Cloak of Death would be a good start for doing so. Not to mention the boy might have knowledge of it if he knew so much else, so keeping it would be a big risk either way. Another step he could take was try and foster a relationship between Hagrid and the boy, as he'd already been planning to. A little hint should be enough.

* * *

Harry was the first of the Slytherin boys to wake up – or at least, it seemed to be that way, considering there was no one in the showers they shared yet – but it also seemed Tomasha had bested them all, as she was sitting in the common room already when he entered, looking completely relaxed in her chair.

"Good morning," Harry said, sitting down next to her. "Do you think we should go to breakfast already?"

"We should have enough time to wait for Delph," Tomasha replied. "If she isn't here in ten minutes I'm going to check if she didn't fall back asleep, though. You know how it is with Delph and Monday mornings."

Harry snorted. He wasn't sure if Delphini had _ever_ been properly awake before nine.

As it turned out, however, she was at least somewhat awake, as she sleepwalked into the common room a few minutes later.

"Good morning," Harry greeted, deciding not to act fake cheerful and annoy Delphini. Today, at least. "Shall we go and have breakfast?"

Rather than answering, Delphini simply changed directions to the common room exit instead, joined by Harry and Tomasha.

"They might have coffee," Tomasha said as they stepped into the hallway.

Delphini noticeably perked up.

Harry snorted.

Delphini glared.

Harry held up his hands in defeat.

Delphini glared some more, for good measure.

Harry decided to change the topic. "Why do they only give us the schedules this morning? I mean, we're going to breakfast not even knowing what class we have, so we'll have to go back to the dorms afterwards to get our books."

"I don't know," Tomasha replied. "Maybe they have to wait before the older years have chosen all their subjects, so that they can fit those schedules?"

"That matters for us?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Tomasha replied. "They have the same professors, at least sometimes. So when making the schedule, they also have to make sure that the professors can be everywhere they need to be. There's a reason the school can't run on ten professors."

Harry snorted as he imagined that. "You're right, that would make no sense."

Just then, they entered the Great Hall, which was slowly filling up with students on this first morning of the year. Tomasha determinedly made her way towards a place near the middle of the table, Harry and Delphini on her heels.

"There's coffee indeed," Harry noted as they sat down. Delphini immediately reached for it to pour herself a cup, while Harry instead went for the pumpkin juice. He was just putting some bacon on his plate when a voice spoke up behind them and he turned around.

"Mr Potter, Miss Riddle, Miss Riddle. Your schedules." Harry couldn't help but notice the slight sneer in Professor Snape's voice as the man spoke, in particular when mentioning Harry. Without another word, their Head of House walked away.

"Is it just me or does he not like me?" Harry remarked.

"Seems like it," Tomasha said. "Perhaps because you're the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"I guess," Harry replied. "But would Dumbledore hire someone who sympathizes with Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name," a voice hissed. Harry turned to find Malfoy.

"Why would he make a new name for himself if it wasn't for people to use it?"

"You have no right to say it!"

"Heir Malfoy. First of all, who would decide that? And second, if anyone has a right to say his name, wouldn't it be me?" Harry snorted. "You really need to play up your Slytherin side, Heir Malfoy. If you keep displaying your opinion of Voldemort like this, like a Gryffindor would, people might think you're condoning violence, too. That would be politically… unfavorable."

"You know, Harry has a point," Tomasha commented, idly playing with her fork, as Malfoy grew red at the next insinuation he should have been a Gryffindor. However, it seemed the boy realized he should back off, and he stalked off towards Crabbe and Goyle, appearing a little agitated.

"He's going to be trouble," Harry said.

"Well, you _did_ tell me you purposefully antagonized him in Diagon Alley."

"Now, I did nothing of the sort," Harry proclaimed innocently. "I only asked him if he was muggleborn because he didn't introduce himself, as any noble would have."

"Just like you introduced yourself yesterday, you mean?" Tomasha asked, pulling off the innocent act much better than Harry could.

Harry shrugged. "Can you imagine a Weasley caring about all that?"

"I'd probably suspect possession," Tomasha replied. "So, our schedule. Double charms, arithmancy, history of magic, transfiguration. _And_ we have a mandatory flying lesson afterwards." She scanned the parchment. "And tomorrow first thing in the morning again transfiguration. I really hope we don't get homework for that, we just wouldn't have time with the flying lesson."

"I'm looking forwards to Defense Against the Dark Arts on Wednesday," Harry said. The combat spells they'd practiced wandlessly, such as stunners and shields, were among his favorites. "Is History of Magic as boring as it sounds?"

"Probably," Tomasha said.

* * *

Coffee made the unwelcome truth of having to be awake somewhat acceptable, so when Delphini followed Tomasha and Harry along to class, she considered talking a viable option. Not that she actually had a reason to put that in practice right now. Tomasha had somehow figured out the location of the Charms classroom and the route there just from the schedule and a single quick question to an older student, so they were among the first to arrive.

The Ravenclaws tended to arrive earlier than the Slytherins did, which absolutely didn't surprise Delphini, however everyone seemed to have arrived three minutes before the bell rang, as the tiny teacher – part goblin, Delphini suspected – closed the door and asked for silence.

"Welcome to your first lesson on Charms. I am Professor Filius Flitwick, it is great to see so many new students again. As it seems we are complete, I will take a roll call to start matching your faces to your names, and then we'll get into the nature of spells."

Said roll call proceeded with absolutely nothing worth noting happening, and after Blaise Zabini had been called on and identified, Flitwick moved on to the lesson.

"We have a double hour today," he said, "which means we should have enough time to both discuss just how spells work exactly, and get started on the first charm you will learn, _lumos_. I will use the _lumos_ charm to help you translate the theory that we start with into actual casting.

"In the longer term, Charms class will function as the core subject on magic. You will learn a significant part of magical theory in this class, as well as spell classification, various methods of spellcasting and many spells with a wide range of applications, from telling the time to charming an object almost unbreakable.

"Can anyone perhaps tell me what the fundamental principle of all spellcasting is? In a single word?"

Next to Delphini, Harry and Tomasha raised their hands, as did Greengrass and a few of the Ravenclaws. Delphini herself didn't bother.

"Mr Potter?"

"Intent."

"Very good, two points to Slytherin. Intent is at the basis of every piece of magic you or any other wizard, witch or other magical being or creature has ever performed or will ever perform. Not just wand magic, mind you, _all_ magic. Intent is always the first and most important requirement.

"However, here in Great Britain, and indeed almost everywhere around the world, we wizards and witches perform most if not all our magic with a wand. Perhaps someone can tell me which three _extra_ requirements come with wand magic, to together make the four fundamental steps of casting a spell with a wand?"

Tomasha slowly raised her hand, making Delphini wonder if she was indeed unsure, or if she was trying to not show off her knowledge. Typically, it was the second, but Delphini had to admit that in this case, she really didn't know which one it was. No one else had an answer for Flitwick, at least.

"Miss Riddle?"

"Intent, incantation, wand movement and the wand."

"Very good, very good. Take three points for Slytherin, there are some minor subtleties that complicate it, but you've pretty much nailed it, and in the correct order as well. As already mentioned, the intent always comes first, and is the only step out of the four that cannot be skipped no matter what you do. And though it is the easiest to approximate – after all, if you cast a spell you probably _want_ to cast it – it is the hardest of the four steps to master, which directly ties into why wandless magic is so much more time consuming to learn than wand magic.

"The main goal of the other three steps is to simplify the casting in various ways. You could see them as funnels that guide your raw combination of intent and magic in a specific direction. An incantation aids you in obtaining the exact right intent, a gesture, which can be made either with or without a wand, helps the intent translate the magic into the actual spell, and the wand helps you focus the actual cast of the spell.

"Now, don't be fooled, some of these may sound like minor things, but each step is very important in your spellcasting, and it won't be until sixth year that you learn to skip the incantation. Skipping the gesture is something you will through spell usage, but it is unique for every spell and it may very well take hundreds if not thousands of casts to learn to cast it without gesture. Casting without wand is not taught at all, as it is simply too complicated and time-consuming. Only about half of all wizards and witches can wandlessly cast even a single spell, and only a very small number have a significant repertoire of wandless spells.

"I would recommend that you write down the key aspects of every step of a normal spell cast as we go over them during this lecture."

Flitwick waited a few seconds while several students scrambled for their parchment. Delphini already had hers at the ready.

"First up, intent. Intent, as we already discussed, is at the core of spell casting. Raw intent is something that is very hard to define, and therefore very hard to understand. For example, I can have the intent to lift this book into the air, but how am I going to do that? Am I going to make it hover? Am I going to push it up? Am I going to pull it towards the ceiling, or even the sky? And once it hovers, should it stay in place, or should it move one way or another? Do I want a predetermined way of movement, or do I want to be able to direct movement as it flies?

"All these different possibilities require minute differences in intent. And that's all assuming you have your intent clear enough in front of your mind that you can lift the book up at all. You will see that as we go through the steps of spellcasting, they help guide your magic through all these variables and more. However, it can only guide you in one way. Can someone tell me what this means for the actual spells?"

Several people raised their hands.

"Mr Goldstein?"

"There are different spells depending on what you need."

"Very good, two points to Ravenclaw. A lot of spells are organized in so-called families. The motion charm family, which deals with moving objects around, contains dozens of different charms. The most well-known ones are of course the levitation charm, the summoning charm and the banishing charm, but there are many different charms that can give better results in certain situations.

"The levitation charm, for example, simply pushes an object up into the air. That means the object will be wobbling somewhat, both because it is affected by air flow and because the magic channeled into the charm will always vary slightly from moment to moment. If you need to keep an object stable in the air, the hover charm may be superior, even if it is more intensive to cast. Again, intent is something that is very hard to pin down, as you can see from the differences between these charms, and the other aspects of spellcasting will help you out in this.

"The second step, magically, is your incantation. Note that while we discuss these 'steps' as separate, they actually occur at the same time if you are casting a spell. An incantation uses a number of underlying magical principles to help refine the intent of your spell cast. As these magical principles are NEWT-level arithmancy, we will not discuss them in this class, or indeed for several more years – for now, it is enough to know they exist.

"Thanks to this arithmancy, which makes use of the magic innate in all languages, the incantation of a spell helps refine your intent to better align with the spell. This is also why proper incantation is extremely important when learning a spell, and why incorrect incantations can have unpleasant side effects at times. Perhaps someone can tell me why dead languages like Latin are often more useful to use for incantations than modern languages such as English?"

All hands remained down. Delphini had no idea either.

"Miss Patil, perhaps? Don't worry about answering wrong, I wouldn't expect anyone to know this already."

"Uh…" the Indian girl hesitated. "Perhaps older languages have more power?"

"No, but it was a good try. Dead languages are more useful than living languages because they are more strictly defined. In a language like English, words may change their meaning over time, however in a language like Latin the meaning of words is much more constant, as it is not used in daily life. Because the meaning is more well-defined, the intent is better defined too, which in turn makes the incantation easier to get right.

"After the incantation, the next step is the gesture. Normally, the gesture is your wand movement, however if you were to cast a wandless spell, a gesture similar to the wand movement would ease the spellcasting in the same way. As for what a gesture does, it translates your magic and intent into an actual spell. It is as if you are refining raw magic into something more specific.

"Gestures are based off of various shapes and their magical significance. Again, the exact nature is NEWT-level, and is not often relevant outside of spellcrafting, which is offered at this school as optional subject during the final two years of your education. However, the interplay of the intent you already pinned down and the shape of your gesture will aid you in shaping your magic into a form that can actually achieve what you are aiming for.

"Over time, as your experience in using a specific spell increases, you will find yourself better able to shape your magic in the correct form even without the gesture. This will slowly give you more and more leeway in the gesture, and consequently you will likely find that as you keep using a spell, the gesture becomes less and less precise, and may in fact disappear from your routine completely.

"Last of all, there is the fourth step, the wand. A wand allows you to focus your spell in a location. While this probably sounds like a very small thing to most of you – point and it happens – it is in fact a vitally important one, and the hardest step to drop. Why? Because if you do not use a wand, your magic has no focus. If your magic has no focus, it will be used at the location it built up – typically, if you are not using a wand, that means it will be used in your hands. I assume you are all able to see the possible consequences here. As a relatively innocent example, attempting to cast a wandless stunning spell is likely to make you yourself lose consciousness for up to a few hours."

And wasn't Delphini very well aware of _that_ detail. She glared at her sister from the corner of her eye. And Harry, who had come up with the idea of learning wandless magic. On the other hand, it did mean she could perform several spells wandlessly already, which no one else in this room other than Professor Flitwick – and Tomasha and Harry – could likely boast of.

"As this has been quite a bit of information," Flitwick said, "it might be best if we take a break now. After the break, I will slowly take you through these four steps as you learn to cast the _lumos_ charm."

The class almost immediately started talking to one another, discussing the lesson and – probably, knowing eleven-year-olds – a host of other things.

* * *

Arithmancy had been a rather boring class, in Harry's opinion. Today, all they had done was go over basic mathematics that he already knew from elementary school, as that was required knowledge for the actual magical aspects of arithmancy. Before that, Charms had gone well, and he'd even earned Slytherin a few points on two occasions. First when he correctly answered a question, and then again when he was the second student – after Tomasha – to correctly perform the _lumos_ charm.

As the Slytherins walked to lunch, Malfoy shot Harry and the Riddles a dirty look before separating himself from them, clearly forming two groups. Greengrass and Davis seemed to be hesitating for a moment before deciding to join Harry's group, while Zabini, Selwyn, Bulstrode and Bella Rookwood didn't commit to either group.

"Malfoy's going to be trouble," Tomasha said, mirroring Harry's statement from breakfast.

"Probably," Greengrass replied. "You seem to be rather talented, Riddle. It might be good to prepare for the inevitable confrontation, you know. The Malfoy name holds a lot of power in Slytherin, while your name holds none at all, and I don't think it will take long until people start questioning your association with Potter."

Tomasha smiled. "We're already ready for a confrontation with Malfoy. He's just going to embarrass himself."

"And besides," Harry added, "after that confrontation it's me associating with them, not the other way around."

Greengrass raised an eyebrow. "Truly? Forgive me if I need to see it first."

They walked through the Great Hall, Tomasha again leading the way to a position in the middle of the Slytherin table.

Harry grinned. "No spoilers, Greengrass. But you two won't mind walking with us rather than on your own. Oooh, pancakes."

Davis gasped. "Where's the syrup?"

Harry laughed and handed it to her. "Here you go, Davis."

"Please, call me Tracey. All of you."

Greengrass raised an eyebrow.

"Then call me Harry, Tracey."

"And call me Tomasha."

Harry and Tomasha both looked at Delphini until she relented. "Call me Delphini, Davis."

Greengrass simply observed Delphini. She would clearly need to see a little more from them before she was willing to take the step towards more familiarity. Well, the revelation that they were Parselmouths – or at least, that Tomasha and Delph were, as Harry had no intention of playing all their cards at once – would probably do that.

* * *

After a very boring History of Magic class and a luckily rather interesting Transfiguration class, Harry and the other Slytherins made their way outside, on their way to the quidditch pitch, where they'd have their flying lesson.

They had fallen into the same groups as before lunch, and Harry's group was discussing the concepts explained in Transfiguration. To his surprise, he seemed to have already become something of an unofficial 'leader' of their group, which he thought didn't make much sense at all. Tomasha would be a far more logical choice.

They arrived at the pitch with the hawk-like teacher already waiting, and Gryffindor joined them not a minute later.

"Good afternoon, everyone," the teacher said. She had a powerful, harsh voice. "I am Madam Hooch, and I will be your flying lessons instructor. Stand next to a broom, all of you."

They did so. Malfoy seemed about to pick it up, but a glare from Madam Hooch changed his mind.

"I want to make one thing absolutely clear. At all times, you listen to my instructions. You do not rush ahead, you do not interpret and assume that if I say you should do one thing, you should also take the next step. If you cannot do this, you will be banned from the use of school brooms for the rest of the school year, and you will receive a number of detentions.

"The reason for this is simple. You are riding a broom. You will be in the air, and all that is stopping you from falling down is your ability to maintain your balance and keep your grip on your broom. Chaos of any kind can lead to broken bones or _worse_, either for you or for someone close to you. Am I clear?"

A wave of murmurs went through the students.

"Very good. Hold your right hand above your broom, and clearly say 'UP!'. The broom should spring in your hand. If it does not, try again. I will give additional instruction to those who have trouble."

A chorus of "UP!" sounded over the pitch. Harry's broom immediately jumped into his hand rapidly, but stopping in time that it barely even touched the palm of his hand before he closed it around the handle. Contrary to a muggle broom, it was easy to hold in just one hand, as the broom seemed to weigh almost nothing at all.

Not everyone seemed to be as quick as Harry, though. Delphini's broom slapped into her palm, and while Tomasha's broom did not, it didn't blitz up like Harry's broom either, easily needing twice as long. Around the pitch, both Malfoy and Ron immediately had their broom in their hand, but some other brooms fell down to the ground before reaching the hand of their wizard or witch, or even just rolled around. Neville's broom, to Harry's surprise, hadn't moved at all. Perhaps he had never flown at home?

Madam Hooch helped out all the students that were having trouble, and a few minutes later, the full class was waiting, broom in hand.

"Everyone!" Hooch called. "Please pay careful attention to what I do." She mounted her own broom, and gave a quick run-down of how she positioned herself on it.

"Once I tell you to mount your broom, you may do so. When you have mounted, _do not_ fly off. Do not test what you can do with it, try not to move it at all. If you're scared, point the tip down. That way, if you make a mistake and the broom _does_ fly off, it will simply hit the ground. Okay, mount!"

Harry swung his leg over the broom, almost instinctively adopting the position Madam Hooch had shown. He felt the magic of the broom brimming beneath him, but did not allow it to escape. Madam Hooch again made her way through the students, adjusting grips where needed – to Harry's amusement, one of the people needing adjustment was Malfoy, who had apparently been doing it wrong for years.

"Next, we will start hovering. When I have finished counting down, you will pull your broom slightly up with your hands. It will float upwards, once you are a few feet in the air, say four or five feet, pull your broom slightly down again until your altitude is constant. Do _not_ pull your broom up too fast. You cannot do it too slowly, but if you do it too fast, you might lose control. If you take it slow, you might need a little more time, but you will get there. On my count. Three, two, one –"

The last word never came, as Neville rose too early, an alarmed look on his face. In his panic, he started rising quicker, rather than stopping. Five feet, ten feet, twenty feet. Suddenly, he slipped off, and with a painful sounding crack and a collective shocked gasp from the class he landed on the ground.

Madam Hooch was next to him immediately. "Broken wrist," she muttered, inspecting the boy.

"All of you, stay where you are while I take him to the hospital wing. If you leave the ground while I'm gone, you will spend the rest of the year in detention, am I clear?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but immediately left, guiding Neville back to the castle.

As soon as she was gone, everyone – of course – started talking. One person drew Harry's attention in particular.

"He lost his stupid ball," Malfoy said, walking over and picking it up. "Maybe I should hide it for him… in a tree somewhere?" He swung his leg over his broom.

"Heir Malfoy," Harry said. The boy turned to him, clearly annoyed. "Is it wise to antagonist the heir to a Most Noble and Most Ancient House?"

Malfoy dismounted and walked over to Harry, trying to intimidate him by proximity.

"Did you not pay attention yesterday, Potter?"

"Did _you_, Heir Malfoy?" Harry parried.

"Lord Potter, Heir Malfoy, perhaps this should be discussed at a later date?" Tomasha intervened. "And Heir Malfoy, perhaps you should give Heir Longbottom's remembrall to one of his housemates."

Malfoy glared at the both of them, but complied, then stalked over to Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Nott, all of them muttering angrily to one another.

"You better have something up your sleeve," Greengrass said. "I get where you're coming from, but Malfoy has a lot to fall back on. You don't."

Tomasha smirked. "Yes, I do."

"Forgive me if I remain skeptical."

* * *

It was shortly after dinner that Malfoy's raised voice sounded through the common room. And Harry was ready.

"Fellow Slytherins, I know that I am only a first year, but I would like your attention for a moment." Malfoy paused until the room was silent. "Just yesterday, we were sorted into our House, and upon arriving here in the common room, our Head of House Professor Snape impressed upon us that we should maintain an image of unity while in front of other Houses, even if we may have internal disagreements. Already, someone in our House has broken this rule. I am of course talking about Harry Potter."

Harry stood up immediately, and interrupted him, occlumency in full effect. "I object to the manner in which you display today's events, Heir Malfoy. Without any cause, you intended to antagonize the Heir to a noble House. And not just any noble House, no, the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom. Once Heir Longbottom takes up the Lordship, he will be the single most powerful person in this country based on pure voting power.

"You, Heir Malfoy, intended to antagonize him by hiding one of his possessions in a place he could not easily find. He had done nothing to warrant such an action, in fact I do not believe he has acted antagonistically against you at any point, unless it must have happened at a time I was not nearby, but with how much you like to complain that other people are inferior to you, I am certain I would have heard about it.

"Had I not interrupted you, you would not only have personally antagonized Heir Longbottom. No, as a consequence of the very rule that you referred to, that our House is to display a unified front to the other Houses, you would have antagonized him for the entire House of Slytherin. I care little if you ruin your own relationship with House Longbottom, but I do not wish to make enemies if I do not have to. Beyond that, had I not interfered, the first year Gryffindors – who like us only started their education at this school yesterday – would have immediately gotten the image that Slytherin is a House of bullies."

Malfoy was not yet cowed. "Potter, it is you first and foremost who is destroying the status of House Slytherin. Not only do you break our House unity, by openly calling my actions into question in front of Gryffindors, you do not have any respect for our values. Just yesterday, you were in the company of Longbottom, a Weasley and three muggleborn on the Hogwarts Express. Of course, that also tells us you quite simply wanted to take Longbottom's side, no matter the little speech you just held to try and bend the rules of this House to make me look bad. However, more importantly it shows that you would gladly throw our traditions to the wolves, that you would have the muggleborn overrun us, that you would rather associate with the rude and the weak than with the powerful. You go against all values of our House."

Harry turned to the girls. "Hear that, Tomasha, Delph? He still believes you're muggleborn." The both of them stood up as well.

"§Malfoy does not know what he is talking about.§" Tomasha said. A collective gasp went through the common room.

"§Some people just do not know any better,§" Delphini added. "§And I doubt he will ever learn.§"

"_Muggleborn_, you said, Heir Malfoy?" Harry asked, turning towards him.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked, though he had turned pale. He knew very well what that was.

"I mean no offense, Heir Malfoy, but are you sure you are mentally sound? Because I would certainly expect that a Slytherin would be able to recognize Parseltongue for what it is."

Malfoy grew red at the insult, but Harry wasn't done yet.

"I know what it means to be Slytherin, Heir Malfoy. It is to be ambitious and cunning. To not play your cards when you do not need to. Do _you_ know what it is to be Slytherin? We have met multiple times, and pretty much every one of those times, you lost your cool. How is it cunning to have your emotions on display like that? You have insulted most people around me for their birth or perceived magical power. Is it not the opposite of ambition to claim that birth means everything, when ambition is all about what one can achieve, _regardless_ of where one starts out?

"Just this morning, you displayed open anger when I said the name Voldemort out loud. I know that many people here sympathize with at least some of his beliefs, but to the Wizarding World at large, he is nonetheless seen as a violent terrorist. Even your father, Heir Malfoy, has the cunning to dissociate himself from Voldemort and claim to the world that he wants nothing to do with him, because he knows the alternative is to be shunned or thrown in Azkaban.

"And this afternoon, the very incident for which you wish Slytherin House to shun me, you would have lowered the reputation of every person here, of our House as a whole, for _what_ reason exactly? I am still not sure what your goal was beyond simple bullying. You, Heir Malfoy, are displaying only the opposite of ambition and cunning. You would destroy the reputation of Slytherin House for at most a minute or two of personal entertainment, and you have the _gall_ to call me out on it when I choose the minor evil – a slight crack in House unity – over the major evil of fifteen Gryffindor students, two Heirs among them, refusing any and all association with our House over the next seven years.

"Heir Malfoy, you are brash and impulsive. You do not have the control over your emotions expected from a Slytherin, and you act without thinking, often to your own future's detriment. All this considered, I am left with one question. How, exactly, did you convince the Hat not to put you in Gryffindor?"

It was deathly silent when Harry was done talking. Malfoy was steaming red, and seemed to be itching to draw his wand, but it appeared he had the intelligence to realize that doing so would only prove Harry's point.

A voice spoke up. Harry recognized Marcus Flint, fifth year prefect and quidditch team captain. "I think it is apparent that Lord Potter has thought through his actions, as a Slytherin should, before he acted. While it is indeed important to maintain our House unity, it does not come above all else. For if you stand aside when someone harms the reputation of our House in this, then do you stand aside when someone from our House sends an uninvited hex at another student? Would you stand aside when they send an uninvited curse at another student? What if that becomes an unforgivable? Where would you draw the line?

"The reputation of Slytherin House, as Professor Snape also pointed out yesterday, has already taken a number of hits in recent times. Think before you act, and do not needlessly antagonize others. And if someone does not do so, then yes, I believe they should be called out on it.

"But I believe enough words have been said on this topic. We have heard both sides of the story, and everyone here can make their own judgement. Heir Malfoy, Lord Potter, shall we put this to rest?"

Harry nodded, and Malfoy followed a few seconds later. Harry had hoped for some more direct support rather than the very noncommittal approach Flint took, but was well aware such an expectation was not very realistic, and someone like Flint, son of the eldest son of Lord Flint, would have to be very careful not to antagonize House Malfoy, who they were on good terms with.

"Great," Flint said. "And remember, both of you, if one of us needs to be sent to the hospital wing because of internal strife, even if the strife occurred within the walls of the House, Professor Snape will _not_ be pleased."

Malfoy stalked away to his dorm, while Harry sat down with a sigh between Tomasha and Delphini.

"That was… impressive," Tomasha said.

"I spent most of the afternoon preparing it," Harry admitted. "Malfoy is nothing if not predictable."

"Still, you captured the attention of the room brilliantly. Not everyone has that gift, Harry."

Greengrass and Tracey walked up to them and sat down in nearby chairs.

"So," Greengrass said. "Parselmouths? The _both_ of you?"

"I told you we were prepared," Tomasha said. "Happy with your choice, Greengrass?"

"I will admit, it looks much more attractive than it did this afternoon. And please, call me Daphne."

The first name introductions went round, after which they spent a little longer discussing the confrontation. From there, they moved on to homework, which Harry quickly realized couldn't be compared at all to the little tastes of it that they got at school, and it easily took up the rest of the evening.

* * *

**AN: I know it's a little slow-going so far, with a full chapter for going to Hogwarts and then full chapter for just the first day, but we'll start speeding up now. We're actually over halfway through the first book. Oh, and Malfoy's going to wisen up over time - it's just that this is the first time he encounters someone who will actually stand up to him and turn things around on him.**


	8. 1-7: Classes

**AN: I was a little too enthusiastic when I made my outline, and as a result this chapter is somewhat shorter than I had intended, but it's structure doesn't really allow me to move scenes between chapters, so here it is – 5100 words rather than the intended 6-9k.**

**AN: I also have a (new) update schedule! Riddle of the Ages will alternate with a new series, Pairing Oneshots, with an upload every two weeks on Monday (so once every four weeks for RotA, and once every four weeks for PO, or as I like to style it P/OS). Pairing Oneshots, for clarification, will be exactly what the title says - a series of oneshots that each have a different, uncommon pairing. The first entry will be the Harry/Bella/Andi/Cissy that I've mentioned previously. In addition to that, A Noble Lord's Duty (check it out if you haven't yet, nineteen chapters of it have gone live since the last RotA update!) will upload once a week on Thursdays, and I expect it to run for 10-15 more chapters, so it should finish sometime in November or December with this schedule.**

**AN: So the exact dates for the next uploads are: September 10 for A Noble Lord's Duty, September 21 for Pairing Oneshots, and October 5 for Riddle of the Ages.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Classes**

* * *

Voldemort – looking through Quirrell's eyes – observed the Slytherin first years at breakfast. More specifically, he was looking at his daughters and Harry Potter. None of them should have been here.

His daughters, because he had given explicit instruction that they were to never be near Albus Dumbledore, and Harry Potter… well, that was a slightly longer rationale. It was obvious that Harry Potter had not been under Dumbledore's direct supervision, or he'd never have gotten to know Tomasha and Delphini in the first place. Therefore, the two had to have gotten to know him while he was unprotected. And Voldemort was certain that should have meant Potter's death.

But it hadn't.

And while Voldemort could understand why his daughters were at Hogwarts - though the reasoning behind it eluded him - he didn't have a clue how Harry Potter's death had not come as part of that same package. He would have to proceed carefully. _Very_ carefully. And perhaps, once everyone had settled down a little – next week, maybe – he could try to question his… daughter for a bit.

* * *

To Harry's disappointment, Tuesday morning's Transfiguration lesson only continued the concepts introduced the day before, on how transfigurations are temporary and will eventually revert to their original form. After that, it was time for their first potions class, a double hour, and it appeared the Gryffindors - who had shared the Transfiguration class with them - also had Potions next. Because of that, the Slytherins led the way to the dungeons, as they were more familiar with them, and everyone arrived on time – something that Harry suspected would disappoint Professor Snape, if the rumors were any indication.

The door slammed shut with an ominous thud as said professor marched into the classroom, his cloak billowing behind him.

Like all teachers in their first class, he started by going through the roll call. When Harry's name came up, Harry was certain Professor Snape wanted to say something, but he held back his tongue and continued.

After finishing the roll call, Snape addressed the class. "You are here," he said in a quiet but commanding tone, "to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach!" He finished his speech with a slap on his desk.

Pacing in front of the class, he glanced between his students, his eyes mostly resting on the Gryffindors, before meeting Harry's gaze.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry sought through his mindscape. "The resulting potion would induce sleep, sir. Which is why they are the primary ingredients in Draught of the Living Death."

"And where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"They come from the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry said, "but I would probably look in a cupboard, because if someone asks me for one I most likely don't have the time to harvest it."

"Correct, Mr Potter, it appears you have actually prepared for your studies. Now, what would happen if I were to add monkshood and wolfsbane together?"

"Nothing, sir. They are different names for the same plant, also known as aconite."

"Five points to Slytherin." He turned towards the Gryffindor side and barked, "well, why aren't you writing that down?"

Hurriedly, people on both sides brought out parchment to write down the answers.

Snape marched behind his desk and placed his hands on top of it, leaning forward.

"Anyone who cannot answer questions like these as promptly as Mr Potter by the end of this school year is likely to drop out of Hogwarts due to their inability to pass this subject. Potions is the single most dangerous class taught at this school, even beyond NEWT-level Care of Magical Creatures. Therefore, let me establish one first rule. You. Listen. To. Me.

"If you cannot follow my directions to the letter, you will be expelled from this class for the semester. If you fail your mark for the year, you will have to repeat the subject. If you fail the same year twice, you will be expelled from Hogwarts. And if you find yourself with a different teacher next year, such as Professor Slughorn, be warned that these same rules apply in _all_ Potions classes.

"You will spend this entire first year learning the many interactions between different ingredients, their classifications, the dangers associated with them, what you should absolutely never mix, and the various safety regulations you will need to adhere to in order to even be allowed to _enter_ a Potions laboratory, let alone work in it.

"Throughout the year, you will have a number of tests that you will _need_ to pass in order to pass Potions. Even if you get perfect marks everywhere else, if you fail just one of these tests, you will fail the subject. The most important of these is safety regulations, which you will be tested for in March. Others are interactions between various classes of ingredients, the different methods of cutting ingredients, and the general effects of heat and stirring.

"Weasley! What is the standard stirring tool?"

"Uh… a spoon?"

"Five points from Gryffindor. Mr Weasley, did you grow up in a wizarding family or not?"

"Y-yes," he stammered.

"Then, should you not be _well aware_ that the vast majority of potions has to be stirred _with a wand_? Brewing a potion is a thoroughly magical process, and in order to brew a functional potion, you will have to add your own magic to the process. Yes, there is magic innate in many of the ingredients we use, but without your own magic the resulting potion will be weak at best, non-functional at worst. Therefore, you will have to use a wand.

"But be warned! Though a wand is easily sturdy enough to not be damaged by a potion, a potion will always be more volatile while you are stirring it, simply because there is so much more ambient magic nearby. In addition, once you take your wand out of the potion, you will _always_ need to clean it. Your wand will not get damaged from the residue remaining on it, but your hand just might."

Soon after that, Professor Snape told them all to get out their books, and started explaining the different classes of ingredients. That topic easily took up the rest of the double period, and before they left for lunch a question from a Slytherin prompted Professor Snape to tell them in no uncertain terms that for Potions, it wasn't OWL year or NEWT year that was the hardest, but rather _first_ year. This pace, he told them, was the standard for the entire year.

* * *

Wednesday had a rather relaxed morning for the Slytherin first years, as they first got to lie in an hour extra, and then had their weekly double hour Herbology, which was a rather laid-back class, at least in Harry's opinion. All they had to do was listen to a brief lecture by Professor Sprout – while in the greenhouse surrounded by plants and fresh air – and then follow her instructions working with some placid plants. Or at least, placid as far as magical plants were concerned. They could still bite your fingers if you weren't careful.

Nothing remarkable happened until Thursday morning, when Harry was surprised to see Hedwig accompanying the flock of mail owls at breakfast. When he opened the letter she was carrying, he found to his surprise that Hagrid was inviting him to tea that Friday after Charms.

"Why not?" Tomasha argued. "Didn't he say he knew your parents? Might be nice to hear from someone who can tell you about them."

Harry nodded. "You're right. And it's a good reason to get out of the castle for a bit." He grabbed a quill from his bag and wrote a quick affirmative reply while Hedwig stole a slice of bacon from his plate.

"Here you go, girl," he said, attaching the letter to her leg.

Most of breakfast was spent discussing the upcoming double hour Transfiguration, when they would for the first time actually attempt a spell in that class. Daphne Greengrass – immaculate as always – and a Tracey that was too cheery even for Harry joined them a few minutes in, and after everyone had had their fill they made their way to the Transfiguration classroom, which they were already becoming quite familiar with.

"Good morning," Professor McGonagall called after everyone had arrived. "As you already know, today we will attempt the matchstick-to-needle transfiguration. While you are doing so, remember the principles we have discussed in the previous lectures. You will need to apply them if you wish for your transfiguration to be successful.

"Do not be overly worried if you have trouble with the transfiguration, we have all next week for practice, typically only about half the class manages it by the end of the first week, which as far as Transfiguration is concerned coincides with the end of this double hour.

"As a quick recap, while performing a transfiguration you must know one of several spells, whichever is most appropriate, and you must then visualize the transfiguration in your mind. The spell is more likely to work if you do not only imagine the image, but also the feel, smell, weight or, when appropriate, even sound. The spell you need for a simple organic material to metal transfiguration such as this one is _naturalis metallicum_, as we discussed previously."

She gave a flick of her wand and matchsticks flew through the classroom, three landing on every table.

"Get to work."

Harry imagined a needle in his head, it's metallic sheen, it's small weight, even the eye, and cast the spell.

Nothing happened.

"Well," he remarked. "That was disappointing."

He looked to his left and right. Delphini had had no more success than he had, and was already casting the spell a second time, while Tomasha was critically examining the somewhat metallic color her matchstick now had.

Harry again went through the steps and cast the spell, but again nothing happened.

Clearly, he was doing something wrong. However, he doubted Delphini would react well if he interrupted her right now – she was casting in rapid succession at this point – and Tomasha seemed very absorbed in her attempts as well. Besides, if they didn't have the spell under control either, what use was it asking them?

So, Harry instead went over the steps and whether he had dropped anything important. Perhaps he should imagine the lack of wood?

He tried again, now adding that to his mental image – at this point, his occlumency was already helping him out, he realized – and cast the spell, to an equal lack of effect.

The process continued for quite a bit more time, even as he noticed Tomasha slowly improving her spell, with her latest attempt having made the matchstick pointy – it still had a wooden texture though, and Harry imagined it would also feel like wood.

"This is useless," Delphini exclaimed. She glanced at Harry and Tomasha's attempts. "How did you do that?" she asked Tomasha accusingly.

"You have to keep in mind the spell itself too," Tomasha said. "I was focusing too much on the transfiguration first, and that made my spell sloppy, it's going better now that I'm splitting my focus more."

"Good point," Harry said, immediately going through the process of imagining the transfiguration again, though this time he ignored the 'old' part he had tried incorporating. Instead, he devoted that attention to proper pronunciation and wand movement.

"_Naturalis metallicum_!"

The matchstick gained a metallic sheen. "Yes!" Harry exclaimed.

"Nice," Tomasha commented. "You split your attention now?"

"Yes," Harry said. "It's much better than what I tried earlier."

Next to them, Delphini cast the spell once again, and her matchstick – though it remained unchanged otherwise – because noticeably pointy.

She picked it up and eyed it critically. "It's something." She put it back on the table and cast the spell three more times in quick succession. Though the first one gave it a very faint metallic sheen, the last two didn't seem to matter at all, and she quietly growled in annoyance.

Inspired, Harry went back to his matchstick and went through the imagination process again, carefully casting the spell. It turned pointy. Again, he went through the full process, and then cast again. It turned metal. One last time, and the head of the needle turned into an eye.

"I did it!" he exclaimed.

It only took seconds for Professor McGonagall to appear. "Congratulations, Mr Potter. Five points to Slytherin. As the first to complete the transfiguration, do you have any secrets to share with the class?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I had to make sure I cast the spell properly even while focusing on the transfiguration, and I cast the spell multiple times to advance the transfiguration."

"Very smart," Professor McGonagall said. "Take this as a free lesson, everyone. If you make some progress in your transfiguration, but don't get all the way, just cast the spell again! It's more intensive and the result is less stable, but you still get there in the end, and it's a great way to practice. Mr Potter, I encourage you to continue practicing until you can transform the matchstick into a needle with just one cast."

Harry did just that, and by the end of the double hour he was one of the six students who got another three points for being able to perform the full transformation in a single spell – Tomasha and Daphne being two others that were among those six.

* * *

The Thursday afternoon and Friday went by without much of note happening, and on that Friday afternoon Harry, Tomasha and Delphini made their way across the sunny Hogwarts grounds towards the hut that Hagrid lived in.

As soon as Harry knocked, they heard loud barking and Hagrid's deep voice telling 'Fang' to calm down – presumably, Harry figured, that was the dog.

The door opened to show an enthusiastic Hagrid holding the dog by it's collar. "Harry! Good to see ya." The half-giant - or that's what Harry believed he was - brought his free arm forward to pat Harry on the shoulder, which caused tremors through his entire body. "Come on in. And who're these ladies with you?"

"Thanks for the invitation," Harry said. "These are Delphini and Tomasha Riddle. They're the girls that live nearby the Dursleys that I told you about. Delph, Tomasha, this is Hagrid."

When the four of them were inside – with Hagrid almost awkwardly shuffling through the hut, which was very much on the small side for him – Fang was left loose and immediately started slobbering over Harry's hand, who was using his occlumency to not react, realizing that a nice, non-aggressive dog like this one was the perfect way to help him get over his dislike of the species.

"Riddle?" Hagrid asked. "I knew a Riddle in my days at Hogwarts, though we didn' get along well. Might be yer granddad? Don't know much 'bout what happened to him."

"Maybe," Tomasha said neutrally.

"So, Harry," Hagrid said as he took the teapot off the fire and prepared them all a cup, "how has yer firs' week at Hogwarts been?"

"It's been great," Harry replied. "Class is very interesting, and I feel like we've already been learning a lot, even if we already knew a few things from practicing things at home."

"You were practicing at home?" Hagrid asked in surprise as he handed out the cups. "If yeh want to add some milk or sugar, here it is. Anyway, how did yeh practice?"

"A lot of patience," Harry said. "When we were eight or something we had the idea to try and control wandless spells and we've been practicing those ever since. It took like three months to get the first one down."

"Merlin, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Wandless magic, and at yer age already. So, girls, what about you? Can yeh perform wandless magic as well?"

Tomasha showed off by summoning the milk can to her hand. "A little."

Delphini snorted. "I'm pretty sure you know more than me and Harry."

Tomasha just smirked.

"An' what about your parents? They caring well for ya?"

"We don't live with our parents," Tomasha replied. "They were… unavailable, after the war. We grew up with Lord Rowle."

Hagrid looked shocked at that. "Huh. Always figured him for a Death Eater. Well, he can't be that bad if yeh two can be friends to Harry. Don't tell him I said that."

"We won't," Tomasha assured him quickly. "What's this?" she asked, picking up the newspaper on the table. "Break-in at Gringotts? Wasn't that the same day we went there? That was Harry's birthday, right?"

"It was," Harry replied. He remembered most of his birthdays very well – in particular the ones that had been celebrated one way or another, starting with his seventh when he'd met Tomasha and Delphini, and hadn't known he had cause for celebration until later.

"Weren't you there as well, Hagrid?" Tomasha asked. "I think I remember seeing you at Gringotts."

"Now that's none of your business," Hagrid said. "Nothin' was stolen, vault was empty."

"Emptied earlier that day," Tomasha read from the paper. She looked at Hagrid inquiringly. "Did you know what was in there?"

"I'm telling ya, it's none of your business. That's between Albus Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flam— I should _not_ have said that." He slapped himself on the forehead with enough force to give a normal human a concussion.

"Nicholas… Flamel?" Harry asked. "I know that name from somewhere…" He began searching through his mindscape.

"No need to bother with that," Hagrid said quickly.

"The Immortal Alchemist!" Harry exclaimed, having found the right bit of knowledge – a chocolate frog card. "He was born in the fourteenth century and is famous for being the only person known to have crafted a working philosopher's stone. Dumbledore has apprenticed with him as a young adult, so that's how they know each other."

He shared a glance with Tomasha and Delphini. "You remember anything else?"

"Not off the top of my head," Tomasha said.

Delphini shrugged. "What does it matter?"

"Exactly," Hagrid heartily agreed. "Yeh want another cuppa tea?"

"Of course, thanks," Harry said, holding out his cup and feeling like he'd embarrassed Hagrid enough. The circumstances of their first meeting might have been a little strange, if not suspect, but Hagrid was a nice enough person.

Soon after, he found himself asking about the various animal parts they could see in the hut – Harry could recognize hippogriff feathers, a bundle of unicorn tail hair, an invisible bundle that Hagrid confirmed as thestral hair and a bunch of other things. Hagrid had a lot of interesting stories to tell about all of it and more – so many different things Harry didn't even think about asking after stories about his parents. Well, there was always next time.

* * *

On Saturday, Harry slept in for a bit – even though he still wasn't very good at tat with his upbringing, which meant he was still among the first to get to the common room. Upon realizing that, he decided to get out a book while waiting for the Riddles.

Tomasha was first, unsurprisingly, and just sat down next to him with her own book. It took another hour before Delphini joined them and they made their way upstairs to the half-empty Great Hall for breakfast.

"Good morning!" a chipper Tracey greeted just a few minutes after they'd sat down. Daphne, of course, was right behind her, and sat down gracefully next to Harry.

"Good morning," Harry replied, turning to Daphne. "Had a good night?"

"Acceptable," she said. "And you?"

Harry made a humming noise. "Pretty good. So what are you going to do today?" On his other side, Tomasha and Tracey were talking with each other, while Delphini was eating in silence.

"Charms," Daphne replied. "After that, Potions. I hope I can finish that before lunch, and then after lunch Transfiguration and Defense in that order."

"So just homework then?" Harry asked. Admittedly, he didn't expect to do much else himself.

"Yes," Daphne said. "If I get my homework out of the way first, I can relax after."

Harry nodded. "Maybe you could join us? Or we could join you? I think we'll be doing homework as well."

"Do you mean you, Tomasha and Delphini?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"That could be useful," Daphne said. "Do you mind following my planning?"

"Nah," Harry said. "I hadn't really thought about what to do first anyway."

Daphne didn't seem inclined to reply to that or keep a conversation going, so Harry joined Tomasha and Tracey's conversation instead for the rest of breakfast, after which the group went back to the common room to do the homework they had decided upon.

The remainder of the morning passed quietly, and after lunch, the group went back to their essays, upon which Tomasha's cat – which she'd named Tom – quickly curled up on his mistress's lap. Tomasha just ignored him except for the occasional scratch behind the ear until an hour or so later, when Delphini's cat – Shadow – suddenly jumped up there too, determined to play with his twin no matter what Tom thought of it.

The result was some loud meowing, two cats rolling over the table and then running off, and a bit of scrambled parchment - at least everyone had gotten their inkwells out of the way.

"Well," Tomasha said after everyone had recovered, "it might be a good time for a break anyway. Or maybe the rest of the afternoon off, with how much we've already done."

"I agree," Harry said. "It should just be an hour or two to finish everything we have left, and we have the entire day tomorrow." Besides, he had other things he wanted to get to.

After receiving the agreement of the others, Harry packed up his books and stored them in his dorm, then left for the library.

It was still quiet there, this early in the year, however Harry did notice Hermione studying by herself at one of the tables. He somewhat wanted to approach her and catch up, however as he'd already told her a few days ago, he was a Slytherin that was by virtue of his status as Boy-Who-Lived under very close scrutiny, and being seen with a muggleborn Gryffindor would likely ostracize him from his House. So, rather than sit with her, he instead picked his own table to pursue the mystery he wanted to solve – who were the parents of his best friends?

Hagrid's mention of a Riddle at Hogwarts when he himself was a student gave Harry an opening, as Hagrid had said that he was a student in the early forties. Apparently, he'd been expelled for something vague, but Dumbledore had protected him from further punishment.

To Harry, that meant there were probably mitigating circumstances. He himself might not like Dumbledore – it was public knowledge that Dumbledore had been in charge of Harry's placement, just the location was secret – but Dumbledore's sterling reputation didn't come out of nothing. Most likely, Dumbledore had 'just' badly miscalculated with Harry's situation. And at this point, Harry didn't even want to go somewhere else anyway, because that would mean not seeing Tomasha and Delphini during the summer.

So, Harry was looking through the library for perhaps a book on old Hogwarts classes or something, maybe a yearbook. After some fifteen minutes he had to concede that perhaps there was no such a thing, and eventually he settled on looking through a book on 20th century Hogwarts first – if he was lucky, it might include Head Boys and the Riddle Hagrid had known might be one of them.

And lucky Harry was, as he found Tom Marvolo Riddle after only minutes of searching. Slytherin Head Boy in the class of '45 – which also explained why he and Hagrid hadn't gotten along, as Hagrid was about as Gryffindor as they got – and he had apparently earned an award for special services, though the book did not specify anywhere what those special services were.

As Riddle was not a magical name, Harry doubted it was a sack of galleons.

Riddle's exam results were also quite extraordinary – which might explain where Tomasha got her genius from – but other than that, it seemed Harry had hit another dead end.

However, he had still made progress by now knowing Riddle's graduation year, so perhaps he could find more information somewhere else, with some luck even family information, like his son – assuming he was indeed the grandfather of Tomasha and Delphini, and not, despite the large age difference, the father.

Therefore, Harry next got out some boring work on the Ministry in the '40s and '50s. Someone with Riddle's academic achievements had probably gotten a nice job there.

He considered the huge tome for a few seconds.

Just going through this entire thing was going to take an eternity, so he would first read just the start of each chapter, and see if he could get a lead on the mystery that way. And if that didn't work, he'd go through it more carefully. Riddle was _probably_ in there somewhere.

Three hours of searching later, Harry had to admit defeat, as he still had not found a Tom Riddle getting a Ministry job. He wasn't sure whether that was a result of blood purism or whether Riddle had never even made an attempt for a Ministry job. Or perhaps he just hadn't found him yet, he still had about a hundred pages to go. But now, he decided, it was time for dinner. He'd continue his search at a later date.

* * *

The next Wednesday, when they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom together with the Hufflepuffs, all tables and chairs had been stacked against a wall, creating a lot of open space lined on one side with what appeared to be practice dummies.

"Good afternoon," Quirrell greeted them. "As I hinted at last Friday, today you will practice the simple shield charm _protego_. The charm has no wand movement, and the incantation is relatively easy. The intent, as we discussed, is a desire to protect yourself from harm coming from a certain direction.

"As _protego_ is a rather general spell, it stops both magical and physical harm, stones, spells, it may even block a muggle bullet or two if you have experience with the charm. However, the general use of _protego_ also limits it's power. A powerful spell may blast through it, and it is weak against shieldbreakers. In terms of dueling, _protego_ is primarily used as a first practice spell to help understand more specialized shields better, but in daily life a _protego_ can save you from a Potions accident or keep an attacker at bay long enough for you to get away.

To help you practice, the training dummies you see here have been enchanted to cast very weak stinging hexes. You will pair up with a dummy and will cast the _protego_ to block the hexes. As we don't have enough dummies for everyone, you will take turns, with the Slytherin boys going first."

Harry lined up next to the other Slytherins indicated.

"Remember," Quirrell said, "point in the direction you want to shield against, say _protego_ loud and clearly, and think of blocking harmful projectiles. I will activate the training dummies in three… two… one…"

A stinging hex shot forward from Harry's training dummy. "_Protego_!" he shouted, and the familiar translucent silver shield appeared, causing the hex to ricochet off. He held the shield in place, and the next stinging hex again bounced off.

"Very good, Mr Potter," Quirrell said from behind him. "A shield on the first try, and strong enough to not simply absorb the spell, but even reflect it. Take five points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said. Good thing he hadn't cast the spell silently – he knew he could, with how much experience he had with the wandless version. That might have drawn more attention than he was comfortable with. No need to show everyone what he could do, after all.

He simply went back to casting, and a thin silver beam shot from Quirrell's wand to Harry's training dummy, which increased both it's casting speed and the strength of the spells. Not that it gave Harry a lot of trouble – he'd cast this spell hundreds of times already.

"That's enough," Quirrell called a few minutes later. "I've seen at least something happening for half of you, it's time to give the Slytherin girls a try. Everyone should feel free to practice their spells on the side, but be warned that the spell is far harder to cast without something that hurts coming your way.

"Let me also remind you that you should under _no_ circumstances point your wand at another student. I don't care that you've only learned _lumos_, _naturalis metallicum_ and _protego_ so far. Wands are dangerous. If you don't comply, you will lose House points."

Harry figured practice was rather redundant for him, so he instead sat down at a table – which earned him a raised eyebrow from Quirrell, but nothing more – and watched as the girls went at it. Unsurprisingly, Tomasha and Delphini had the spell down as well as Harry did, while the others needed to practice much more. Quirrell repeated his actions for Harry with the two, giving them five points each and increasing the difficulty.

Somewhat later, when the Hufflepuff girls were practicing, Harry decided to duke it out with an imaginary opponent near the wall, casting shields, imagining casting stunners – he could hardly cast them here without drawing attention – and ducking away from imaginary spells.

He loved this class.

* * *

Voldemort oversaw the first year Hufflepuff and Slytherin class. His daughters and Harry Potter had all shown remarkable control over the _protego_ charm, more than any first year should reasonably have. The only explanation he could think of was that they had been practicing wandless magic together, which only created more questions for him.

He needed answers. He didn't know if he would get them, but he'd have to try. As class was nearing it's end, he saw Harry Potter was now fighting an imaginary opponent, and his movement seemed just a little too realistic for an untrained eleven year old – this boy had cast and dodged spells before.

Voldemort walked to his desk. "Alright, it's just two minutes until the bell, I think we can just end it here. A very good performance from a lot of you, keep it up. Homework for Friday is to write a six inch essay on how to cast the _protego_. Miss Tomasha Riddle, please remain behind for a bit, I would like to ask you something."

The class packed up their bags, and Voldemort could hear Tomasha tell her sister and Harry Potter that she would join them in Potions as soon as possible, and she'd have a note for Snape if needed.

Not that Voldemort thought Severus cared about notes – Slytherins would be excused either way, Gryffindors would be punished either way.

When the class was empty, Tomasha turned towards him, a smirk on her face.

"Yes, father?"

* * *

**AN: Check out my Twitter (handle: Leyrann) or Discord (/WzYpyPT) for the latest updates on my writing. Also check out the site-that-shall-not-be-named (creator: Leyrann) if you wish to support me. Benefits include teasers of future chapters, sneak peeks into my outlining and more. Also, the teasers will be made publicly available on Discord two days before a new chapter is posted.**


	9. 1-8: A Riddle Solved

**AN: Two weeks ago, the first entry of Pairing Oneshots went live. As the name implies, Pairing Oneshots is a series of oneshots that will each focus on a different pairing that, in my opinion, does not receive enough love from the community. Be sure to check it out! The second entry will go live on October 19, two weeks from now.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: A Riddle Solved**

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Harry didn't have a lot of time to devote to his search for information on the elusive Mr Riddle, as they had quite a lot of homework to do. And on top of that, Tomasha seemed determined to expand their friend group beyond the trio they had been before Hogwarts, with her often inviting Millicent Bulstrode, Bella Rookwood, Thomas Selwyn and Blaise Zabini to work on homework in addition to Daphne and Tracey, who already joined anyway.

Harry, of course, wasn't going to slip away all the time, as he didn't want to give off the message that he didn't want to interact with them. And it wasn't like it could hurt to make friends with members – and even heirs and heiresses – of other Noble Houses.

By the end of September, Arithmancy finally moved out of the math repetition phase and into actual _Arithmancy_. Daphne in particular had been looking forward a lot to the first 'real' lesson on the subject.

"Good morning," their teacher, Professor Vector, greeted them. "With the mathematics exam behind us, we'll be covering the elementary principles of Arithmancy in the coming weeks. Today, we are starting with the importance of specific magical numbers. Perhaps someone can tell me the most important magical numbers?"

A few students raised their hands.

"Miss Patil?"

"Three, seven and thirteen," the Ravenclaw answered.

"Correct," Vector said. "To keep with the theme we'll be discussing, three points to Ravenclaw. Three important numbers, namely three itself, seven and thirteen. Can someone tell me what they have in common? Miss Greengrass?"

"They are all prime numbers."

"Again, correct. Three points to Slytherin. Next question: are _all_ prime numbers important? Mr Corner perhaps?"

"No."

"Incorrect, however I will not take points as it is something of a trick question. Not all prime numbers hold the same amount of importance, however they _do_ all hold some specific importance. Eleven is the clearest example among the small prime numbers of one that holds less importance, yet once you get into the thick of it and start using arithmancy in your Potions, Spellcrafting or whatever else you are doing, you will find that a number like eleven will still hold more value than a non-prime such as ten.

"Now, there is sometimes some confusion about this next point, so let me clarify right now. In arithmancy, the number two is _not_ considered a prime. Some of you may be aware of so-called 'trivial cases', though do not worry if you aren't. A trivial case is basically an answer to an equation, or just a number, that is both extremely obvious and completely useless. When talking about primes, in mathematics one is considered a trivial case, and is excluded, but two is not.

"However, once you start taking arithmancy into account," she tapped the board behind her, "you will find that the number two does not hold any specific magical significance, and you will frequently have to work around it if you do include it among the prime numbers. Therefore, we specifically exclude it from the primes in arithmancy, while we do not in mathematics. This is one of very few cases where the two fields contradict each other, as they normally just coexist."

Vector took a sip from her drink.

"Most of your Arithmancy will revolve around solving equations. Fundamentally, these are often not magical in nature." An equation – far too difficult for Harry to solve – appeared as she waved her wand at the board. "This is an example of an arithmantic equation that any muggle with some education in mathematics could solve. However, that does not mean you do not need magical knowledge for this subject as a whole. This three, for example," she pointed at the relevant digit, "can be derived as being a three because of the magical significance of the number. I will not explain how to do so today, as this particular equation is NEWT-level.

"As another example, this equation technically has an infinite number of solutions, but Arithmancy often imposes two limitations that are absent in muggle mathematics. First, in most arithmantic equations, all variables you enter into it need to be integers, meaning whole numbers. The x, y and a that you see here cannot be fractions or such. In addition, you can typically ignore any solutions that do not give an integer as output as well. This is because all integers – even those that aren't primes – have a base level of magical significance that fractions lack."

Tracey raised her hand.

"Miss Davis?"

"What is the highest prime we use?"

The professor chuckled. "I have no idea, but I can tell you they get very big. Many of the equations needed to design spells use primes with at least three and often four or more digits. I can tell you right now that it will be very beneficial to, if nothing else, learn all primes up to a hundred by heart, and preferably more. We will also be going over efficient methods to determine whether a number is prime in the second semester. And even then, professional spellcrafters will often use reference sheets to simply look up whether a number is prime."

Vector continued with a short explanation of a simple method to determine whether a number was prime, and gave the class some numbers between a hundred and a thousand for which everyone had to determine which ones were prime and which ones were not.

It wasn't anything too difficult, in Harry's opinion, but at least they were approaching the point where magic was actually involved in the subject.

* * *

October went by quickly, and rather uneventfully. Though Harry made some progress in his effort to find out more about the Riddles, it wasn't much. All he had found was that Tom Marvolo Riddle had never gotten a job at the Ministry, and in fact didn't seem to appear in any records at all beyond the early fifties. In addition, he'd confirmed that there had been no Riddles at Hogwarts after him – at least, until this year – which made Harry believe that Tom Marvolo Riddle was in fact Tomasha and Delphini's father, rather than grandfather.

But he didn't have a clue who Tom Marvolo Riddle was, why the girls always refused to answer his questions – back when he still bothered – and why Ollivander cared about their heritage so much.

Then there was the seeming connection to the Gaunt family, which was supposedly extinct. Tomasha's middle name – Merope – had been given to several Gaunt family members in the past, which was how Harry had gotten on track for that, and he had also found criminal records of one Marvolo Gaunt and one Morfin Gaunt in the twenties – and in Marvolo's case again in the forties. Marvolo Gaunt could possibly be Riddle's grandfather, but then Harry had to assume he also had a daughter – likely called Merope then, considering Tomasha's second name – who had presumably had a child with a muggle or muggleborn, which didn't fit the Gaunts at all.

Still, he couldn't rule that theory out when they were getting ready for the Halloween feast. Harry was looking forward to the evening. Sure, there were some mixed feelings because it was also the evening that his parents had died, however it was not as if he remembered them in the first place. Tomasha and Delphini were a little reluctant to talk to him about it, which was his only regret in the matter. Perhaps Tracey and Daphne would be better in that regard, he'd have to think about how to break the topic on a day they no doubt considered festive.

"I heard Granger is having a breakdown," Tomasha said as they settled at the Slytherin table. The House tables were pretty much filled up already, and as Harry scouted the Gryffindor table, where he indeed couldn't see their bushy-haired classmate.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked.

"I overheard some Gryffindor girls," she said. "Apparently one of the Gryffindor boys made a mean comment after Charms, and she broke down. Has been in the second floor bathroom for the entire afternoon according to them."

Harry grimaced inwardly. He really wanted to talk to her, as she seemed rather alone, yet he still wasn't sure whether it was the right call considering his position in Slytherin. He seemed to be gaining some respect from the House, but it felt more like tolerance than acceptance.

Conversation flowed from one topic to another throughout the start of the meal, only to be rudely interrupted.

"Troll!" Quirrell shouted as he ran into the Great Hall. "In the dungeons!" He slumped down in front of the head table. "Thought you ought to know…"

Pandemonium erupted as hundreds of students started talking loudly, shoving their benches backwards to stand, however a few loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand restored order.

"Calm down, everyone. Please stay together with your house, and make your way to your common rooms in an orderly fashion. The staff will search for the troll. Stay with your prefects at all times."

Harry and his friends looked at one another. "The troll is _in the dungeons_," Tracey hissed.

"We should be fine," Daphne replied, sounding far calmer. "A dozen seventh years shouldn't have trouble fighting off a troll. That's if we even run into it, the dungeons are quite large."

Assuaged, the group made their way out of the Great Hall and were about to descend into the dungeons when Tomasha spoke up.

"What about Granger?"

Harry looked at her in shock. "You're right! She doesn't know about the troll. We need to warn her." And House boundaries be damned.

"Come on," Tomasha said, ducking into an alcove, joined by Harry and Delphini. Tracey and Daphne saw them leave, but wisely held their tongue – they'd no doubt heard their conversation.

It was only seconds before the hallway was empty, and Tomasha led the way upstairs through a secret passage. Careful to avoid any possible teachers, they rounded a corner, approaching the bathrooms when a nasty smell filled their nostrils.

"Please tell me that's not troll," Harry said.

"I think that's troll," Delphini replied.

Hurried, wands out, they rounded the next corner. A lumbering giant of a creature stood in the hallway, club in it's hand and clad in nothing but a loincloth. Just as it entered their vision, it let out a deafening roar, then swung it's club at a doorway.

Inside sounded a shriek.

"That's the girl's bathroom!" Delphini exclaimed.

As one, the trio dashed forward while the troll entered the bathroom.

"Spread out," Harry said as they follow the creature. "_Stupefy_!" he tried, sending a stunner at the troll. However, it's magic-resistant hide shrugged the spell off completely. At the very least, his shout seemed to draw the troll's attention away from Hermione cowering in the corner.

The beast let out another roar.

Delphini shot out a stunner of her own, however Tomasha, with two flicks of her wand, lifted up a piece of a broken sink and sent it flying at the troll, cutting through it's skin, though not deep enough to draw blood.

Inspired, Harry switched to the same tactic, using the levitation spell they'd learned earlier today to hover rubble into the air, then using a simple banishing spell – one he'd controlled wandlessly for years, and practiced with his wand in summer – to send it flying at the troll.

"We can't get it down!" Delphini exclaimed as the creature slowly turned around, annoyed at the barrage now coming from three sides. It swung it's club and Tomasha dove out of the way, though several stalls were turned into rubble. Only a quick protego kept the debris from burying Tomasha. As Harry hurled several more objects at the troll, Tomasha scrambled away and to her feet to get back to casting.

The troll was starting to show cuts all over, however even as they were fighting it, they saw how the skin was regrowing.

Desperate, Harry changed tactics, throwing his wand to the ground, switching to wandless spells. Not having to say the words out loud increased his casting speed, and he could send a full barrage of objects at the troll now, his left hand levitating object after object and his right hand banishing them at the troll.

One of them hit the troll's groin, causing it to roar loudly, and Harry immediately switched focus to that area instead of it's torso. Delphini had by now joined in, while Tomasha was still using her wand, yet throwing objects at a similar speed.

The troll started to lumber forward towards Harry, however he stepped back even as he continued his barrage, and the creature was certainly slowing down by now. It's loincloth was torn to rags – regrettably, that allowed Harry to see things he could have gone his life without seeing – and cuts that actually bled were starting to appear now.

The roars turned into screams of pain as the troll slowed down further, and, just a few meters away from the retreating Harry, stumbled to the ground.

The three pounced immediately, seeking the sharpest objects they could find and driving them into the troll's skin as deep as they could, incapacitating it further. Tomasha sent a shard deep into it's right arm, causing it to drop it's club, and Harry and Delphini together cut deep enough into it's legs to hopefully cut some muscles or tendons essential for walking.

To top it off, Tomasha levitated the club high into the air, then crashed it down on the creature's head as hard as her magic could manage, knocking it out completely.

"Merlin!" Delphini panted. "What an endurance that beast has."

Harry satisfied himself with simply panting, not wanting to speak right now. He sank down against a wall, taking in the ravage that was the remains of the second floor bathroom. Not a single stall was still standing, and all sinks but one had been crashed from the wall. Multiple faucets were spraying water, which was quickly pooling on the floor. Over at the other side of the bathroom, Tomasha sat down next to a shaking Hermione, who seemed to be completely in shock.

Not that Harry could blame her.

He didn't hear what Tomasha said to the Gryffindor, however his senses went back on full alert when, several seconds after, footsteps sounded outside. He turned his head to the door right in time to see Professors Snape, McGonagall, Quirrell and Dumbledore appear.

"Uh," Harry said, glancing between them and the unconscious beast. "We, uh, took care of it?"

"Did you go hunting for a _troll_?" McGonagall demanded when she regained her wits.

"No," Tomasha spoke up from the other side of the room. She stood up to make her way over to the teachers, who were still near the entrance. "I'd overheard that Miss Granger wasn't feeling well and was in the bathroom, and then Professor Quirrell raised the alarm. We realized no one had warned Miss Granger, so we decided to look for her. If we'd been looking for the troll, professor, we wouldn't have been here on the Second Floor in the first place. I'm sure you know where the Slytherin common room is, after all.

"Anyway, once we got here, we noticed the troll was actually here, however it had found Miss Granger. We realized that she was locked in there and that we had to save her. So… well," she looked around awkwardly. "We did."

"You should have gotten a teacher or prefect," McGonagall said.

"With all due respect, professor," Harry said, "if we'd been even ten seconds later, Miss Granger would've been dead."

Professor Snape was inspecting the cuts on the troll's body. "Would one of you be so kind as to explain how you managed to cut a troll's skin?"

"Smart use of spells, professor," Harry replied. "We used levitation spells to line rubble up, then shot it away with banishing spells. A lot of the rubble had sharp edges."

"Banishing spells are fourth year spells," Snape said, giving Harry a piercing gaze.

"We've been reading ahead," Harry said. "It seemed like a useful spell." He looked around, his eyes suddenly falling on his wand, which had rolled against a wall. "I guess we were right."

Shortly after looking back at Snape, he suddenly noticed an attempted intrusion in his mindscape, which he quickly and effectively booted out. Snape showed no visual reaction, but Harry knew it had been him. Which was of course a big error in judgement from the professor's side. But that was something for later.

Harry quietly summoned his wand as the professors looked between each other, seemingly handling it over to Dumbledore. "For all your foolishness in leaving the safety of your House with a troll on the loose, you have performed admirably to save the life of a fellow student. Take twenty-five points for Slytherin each. You may go back to your House's common room accompanied by Professor Snape. Miss Granger, you will be escorted back to the Gryffindor common room by Professor McGonagall."

Professor Snape wasted no time, turning with that billowing cloak of his and stalking down towards the dungeons, with Harry and his friends scrambling to keep up. On the way down, only a single short exchange of words broke the silence.

"Mr Potter, do you have time to visit my office tomorrow?"

"Of course, professor," Harry replied, assuming Snape wanted to handle his legilimency attempt behind closed doors.

* * *

The next day, after dinner, Harry made his way to Snape's office, as requested.

"Come in," Snape called after Harry knocked.

Harry entered and sat in the chair in front of the professor's desk. "You wanted to talk about something, professor?"

Snape nodded. "As you seem to be aware, I overstepped my boundaries yesterday by attempting to legilimens you. I would like to apologize for that."

"Apologies accepted, sir."

"I'd appreciate it if you would not mention this to anyone else, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded. He'd expected that – Snape could receive a serious reprimand from higher up if Harry talked. That didn't mean Harry was going to give this favor away for free. "I'm sure Slytherin House would not mind too much if I were to occasionally talk to the girl whose life we saved, right? Even with her blood status."

Snape hesitated, then nodded. "That should be fine indeed. If there is nothing else, you may leave."

Harry nodded, standing. "Good evening, sir."

"And five points to Slytherin for showing cunning."

Harry smirked as he left. He had no illusions about his Head of House's opinion of him, but it did seem he was starting to gather some respect – and besides, Snape would never pass up a good opportunity to give Slytherin points.

* * *

That Saturday, they sat at breakfast close to their usual time, though it was busier than normal.

It took a while before Delphini noticed. "Wait," she murmured after the first few sips of her coffee, "why is the table so full?" Then, with an excited squeal, "It's Quidditch season!"

Harry, Tracey and Tomasha all couldn't help but start laughing at the sudden turnaround in her mood and even Daphne cracked a small smile.

About half an hour later, they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. As Delphini had so readily noticed, today would be the first match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Harry had let himself be informed that the Quidditch season at Hogwarts consisted of a total of twelve games, split into two rounds of six games where all teams played each other once. The winter round would be played in November, December and January, with a game every two weeks – and a break around Christmas – while the spring round would be played in March, April and May. At the end, the Quidditch Cup would be awarded to the team that led the standings.

"I'm back," Delphini said, now wearing more green and silver than Harry had realized she owned. Not having realized today was Quidditch, she hadn't taken her Slytherin scarf, hat, gloves and more to breakfast.

As one of the prefects was explaining, the Houses that didn't play normally divided themselves based on the team they supported, with the neutral supporters in the middle. The result was a green-and-silver sea on one side of the stands, a red-and-gold sea on the other side, and a small buffer without bright colors in between.

The positioning of the scoreboard – which was located at the halfway point of the field – betrayed that Gryffindor was more popular than Slytherin, with their supporters from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw making up just over half of the total Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, leaving slightly less for the neutrals and Slytherin supporters together.

That scoreboard showed four large numbers. The two at the top displayed the current scores for the teams – zero, as the match hadn't yet started. The two at the bottom displayed the value of the snitch for each team, and were currently at twenty-five.

As the game played out, the value of the snitch would slowly increase. While a goal was worth ten points straight up, the first three goals would also up the value of the snitch by one for their team only, after which the next three would up the value by two, then by three, and so on. As a result, the longer a game went the more worth the snitch would become relative to the number of points scored. Sometimes, a worse team would deliberately draw the game out as long as possible, because even if they only made half as many goals as their opponents, or less still, there would come a point where the snitch would allow them to win the match.

But right now, Lee Jordan – a third-year Gryffindor – was announcing the players from the two teams, first their four chasers, then their two beaters and last their keeper. Madam Hooch was refereeing the game, and suddenly the teams were off.

Despite their youth, the Gryffindor chasers quickly started showing their worth, getting out to an early 30-10 lead. The snitch didn't seem to play much of a role yet – though Harry noticed it several times from the stands, and a number of players seemed to do so as well, none were ever close enough to give chase.

Any player was allowed to go after the snitch at any time, and catching it would end the game. However, that was a very deceptive goal. Chasing the snitch meant leaving your team at a man disadvantage in one way or another – typically only the chasers could get away with it, and not for long – and while it wasn't that hard to momentarily spot the golden flash, keeping it in vision and catching it was much harder.

"And Bell is asking for the quaffle, she gets it, she avoids Pucey, she aims and… she drops the quaffle, she held onto it for too long! This is of course her first match, some nerves are to be expected."

Indeed, Marcus Flint caught the quaffle, passed it back and forth between teammates, and several seconds later, it sailed neatly past Wood's defense and into Gryffindor's left ring, putting the score at 40-20 rather than 50-10.

The quaffle was, in Harry's opinion, a curiosity. While it's function was no different than a ball in most muggle sports, it actually had more enchantments on it than any other ball. It was sticky, and therefore easy to catch and hold in your hand, however if one person held it for too long – the time depended on the skill level of the game, it was longer in a place like Hogwarts and shorter in professional play – it would become impossibly slick instead, and slip out of the players hand no matter how they held it. It was also of relatively normal weight for a ball, most similar to a volleyball, however if it descended below the playing field, which meant below the rings, it would slow it's decent significantly, allowing players to easily pick it out of the air.

"He's going for the snitch!" Delphini suddenly yelled into Harry's ear.

Indeed, Flint had abandoned the playing field for the moment, instead chasing the snitch. Harry himself didn't see it, and Flint lost track of it after a few seconds as well, returning to the game.

It was a risky play, in Harry's opinion. Slytherin was currently twenty points behind, and the snitch was only worth 27, so if Gryffindor would get a goal while Flint was on the hunt they'd lose even if he caught it, and that was of course more likely the moment Flint went for the snitch in the first place, as it would leave the team at a chaser disadvantage.

The ebb and flow of the game continued, and at 60-40 in favor of Gryffindor, so a hundred points total, Madam Hooch called for a break, letting the teams switch sides before play continued – a rule created to ensure neither team would be significantly more disadvantaged by sun or wind than the other one.

While the game was interesting to Harry – for the sake of House pride if nothing else – little of note happened. Slytherin's aggressive playstyle cost them a few fouls, however it also netted them the quaffle on more than one occasion.

Chasers from both teams broke off to look for the snitch at times, but it wasn't until the teams had played for almost an hour that it flitted right across Flint and Angelina Johnson.

"They've seen the snitch!" Jordan commentated. "With the score being 230-160 in favor of Gryffindor, either team would win if they catch it right now. Flint is trying to muscle Johnson out of the way, but doesn't seem to be committing any fouls. I'm not seeing the snitch right now, but it looks like Flint is winning – oh, there it is, yes, he is indeed closer to it, they swerve in tandem, but Flint gains a small lead on Johnson, meanwhile Bletchley blocked the shot from Bell, potentially saving the game for Slytherin, and Pucey picks up the quaffle. Back to the chase, both Flint and Johnson are still focused on the snitch, Flint reaches out aaaaaand – he's got it! Marcus Flint has caught the snitch, and Slytherin win 236 to 230.

"That means Slytherin will earn themselves a total of 38 points for this season's championship. 23 from their points, another ten from winning the match, and five from catching the snitch. Gryffindor will have to make peace with only 23 points, all from their goals. Remember that catching the snitch will always give five championship points, and that the winning team will earn ten extra, while in the rare case of a tie both teams will only earn five instead, and lastly that a team can never earn more than thirty championship points from the points they obtained during a single game."

That rule encouraged players to abandon the quaffle play if a game lasted too long, as making goals became less relevant – their only use beyond 300 points was to determine the winner, which gave just enough points that teams typically kept either two or three chasers on the quaffle play. More or less depending on the exact scores, of course.

"Party in the common room!" one of the older year students behind Harry in the stands announced. Around him, everyone was cheering for their team's victory in the first match of the year, sending the team off to a strong start. Delphini was jumping up and down in excitement, hugging Tomasha, Harry and Tracey in turn – Daphne had quickly put some distance between her and the Quidditch fanatic.

With the area around them clearing up, they got moving and made their way out of the stands. Time to see whether that party would be any good.

* * *

The day after the Quidditch match, Harry finally had some time to go back to the library and delve into the Riddle mystery some more. He made his way up there, gave a quick nod to Madam Pince and looked for a good place to sit. While doing so, he came across Hermione, who had three tomes open and was scribbling away on some parchment. Was she really always doing homework?

It did remind Harry that he had wanted to do something else, so he approached her for the first time in almost two months.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Harry?" she looked up, surprised. "Is something the matter?"

"I figured we could maybe sit together," Harry said, "but I think this might not be the best place to do so. Perhaps we could look for a different table further back?"

"Uh." She looked a little flustered. "Yeah, I'll uh…" she rearranged some papers. Harry stepped up and closed a few of the books for her and took them in his arms.

"Thanks," she said, picking up the remainder and following Harry to a more private corner. He placed her books on the table and sat down. Hermione, immediately, grabbed the books and set them out again like before.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked.

"I'm… not sure," she replied after a moment. "Thanks. For saving me. You and Tomasha and Delphini."

"Are you making friends?" Harry asked, figuring she wasn't likely to admit to what he'd already heard about what happened on Halloween.

She looked back at him with – to his surprise – a hurt look in her eyes. "You didn't want to talk to me either."

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry defended himself. "It's just… I can't ignore what Slytherin thinks of me, you know."

She looked away from him. "You're just being nice. You don't even like me."

"No, Hermione," Harry said, reaching out, though she didn't see it. "I want to be your friend, okay? I… I'm sorry, I think I took the reality of Slytherin and wizarding politics too much for granted, I didn't stop to realize you didn't grow up with it."

"If you want to be my friend," she asked, "then why didn't you talk to me for two months? You were in the library several times per week."

"Something changed," Harry said. "In Slytherin. I can't tell you what, but it's given me a bit more room to talk to you, as long as I'm not too blatant about it. It… it has to do with, you know, the troll and everything. The same for Tomasha and Delph."

"Why do you even care what the Slytherins think?" Hermione asked. "They're just bullies. You're helping them like this, you know."

"If I would ignore them," Harry said, "it would make my life much harder. People like Malfoy are bullies, yes, but one day, he and I are both going to be part of the Wizengamot. If I spend my time here at Hogwarts constantly disrespecting him and Slytherin House, he and his allies would never even listen to what I have to say. Hermione, I'm trying, I really am. That's why I made sure we could talk to each other now."

"But you still don't want to talk where others can see us," she accused.

Harry sighed, unsure how to reply – he couldn't exactly give away that he'd basically asked for a favor from Snape, or even that Snape himself might have to step in to make sure he could continue talking to Hermione.

"It's complicated," Harry said. "I promise I'll keep meeting up with you here in the library, together with Tomasha and Delph if I can pull them along, and I'll try and get a better position where I can get away with talking you even in, like, the Great Hall, okay?"

"Promise?" Hermione asked, hopeful.

"Promise."

"So what homework are you doing?" she asked, suddenly all business as she looked back and forth between her books. "Maybe we could work together?"

"I've already finished my homework," Harry said. "I was here for something else, actually."

"You've actually finished your homework already?" Hermione asked in surprise. "It's so much! I barely have time for anything else."

Harry shrugged. Sure, he had to spend a few hours on it every day, but it wasn't like he never had time off himself. "Maybe it's because I work together with others all the time. Perhaps we can do tomorrow's homework together after dinner? This table?"

Hermione nodded, already dipping her quill in her ink. "I'd like that. Well, if you're going to do something else, I'm getting to work now."

Harry nodded – though she didn't see it – and stepped up to a nearby shelf on Hogwarts, figuring if he could get any more information from one of these tomes.

It was nothing but a few more hours of dead ends. At some point, Hermione had finished her homework for the weekend and left, leaving Harry alone at the table to think. He felt like he was missing one final piece, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. By now, he probably knew everything about Tom Marvolo Riddle there was to find, and it wasn't enough to understand why the girls didn't talk about him, or why Ollivander had brought up their heritage.

Perhaps… perhaps he should go through those odd moments that he'd stored separately in his mindscape. The times where Tomasha – it was typically her – said or did something that didn't make sense. He quickly made his way through the now rather impressive fortress of his mind, finding the correct cupboard and taking out the oldest memory. A memory he'd only stored in there later, as he hadn't realized something was odd the first time around.

"_The House of Slytherin has a really bad reputation nowadays," a seven year old Tomasha said, "and the only person who could claim it in the last century is Voldemort, and he'd never get the support needed. The House of Hufflepuff can be claimed by the Smith family, and several people have tried, but no one ever got enough support for that either for several reasons."_

Well, that was all known information to Harry.

"_What about me?" Harry asked. "Could I claim another House?"_

"_I… don't think so," Tomasha said. "Well, you can't because you're already Lord Potter. Maybe if you'd have had a younger brother or sister they could've claimed House Peverell though, that's a famous but extinct House."_

"_House Peverell?" Delphini asked. "I've never heard of them."_

"_Both the House of Potter and the House of Gaunt can trace their lineage back to them," Tomasha said. "But I don't think either can also claim the House."_

The House of Gaunt. The House which shared several names with the Riddles – Marvolo for Tom and the second-to-last impoverished Lord Gaunt, and Merope, Tomasha's middle name which had been given to several Gaunts in the past. He continued the memory.

"_You mean—"_

"_Yes."_

That was the part that had stood out to Harry when he'd gone back to it. Tomasha pretty much never cut Delphini – or anyone – off.

"_What are you talking about?" Harry asked._

"_Nothing important," Tomasha said. "The House of Gaunt is the same House through which Voldemort had his claim on the Slytherin Lordship."_

No.

That was impossible.

Harry sat frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

What if… Voldemort could be someone else. Morfin, perhaps – he definitely had a similar attitude towards muggles. But, no, Morfin had died in Azkaban.

It could still be someone else. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Was there anything that might link him to Voldemort? The time frame matched – Tom Riddle had disappeared in the early fifties, while Voldemort had appeared in the late sixties. And Harry was quite sure no one – or almost no one – knew Lord Voldemort's true identity.

Even though he now had a hypothesis – and a scary one at that – Harry still had very little to go off. Some achievements of Tom Riddle – which did match someone as powerful as Voldemort – and the names. Unless there was like, an anagram, he'd never be able to prove a connection.

Perhaps he should try that – there was a 'vol' in Marvolo, after all.

He got to work.

And everything fell in place.

It matched up.

Perfectly.

'I am Lord Voldemort.'

Harry went over the letters a second time to make sure he had not imagined it.

This was as good as proof.

A multitude of emotions raged through him, so many that he could not recognize even a single one of them. His best friends, who had saved him from the hellhole that was the Dursley home, were daughters of the very man who had killed his parents and – effectively – put him there.

And they knew.

Harry knew they knew.

He pressed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the mess that was his head. Occlumency could only do so much, and right now it simply wasn't enough.

What should he do?

He couldn't very well not tell them that he knew.

Should he trust them to have had the best intentions?

_Could_ he?

What did it mean for Thorfinn Rowle and his wife? Surely, the Dark Lord himself would not let his children be raised just by anyone. Were they, then, Death Eaters?

If so, why had they never done anything to Harry?

So many questions.

And no answers.

He'd have to confront Tomasha and Delphini, before anything else. He knew that much.

Besides, he wasn't sure he could be in their presence without them immediately realizing something was going on – Tomasha in particular.

Feeling numb, he packed up the books he'd gotten out, returning what belonged in the library to their shelves and the rest to his bag, and made his way down towards the dungeons. He swallowed before entering the common room.

Delphini and Tomasha sat in a closed setting together with Daphne and Tracey. Harry had to force himself to walk over there, then put his bag on the ground, trying to find the words to say. Tomasha had noticed him and turned to him, followed quickly by the others.

"We need to talk," Harry said, looking at the twins and ignoring the other two. "Somewhere private."

Tomasha gave him a surprised look, while Delphini's mask did not change.

"Sure," Tomasha said. "Where?"

"I… don't know," Harry hesitated. "Somewhere private. Not here."

"Come," Tomasha said, rising and taking the lead. "We'll find an empty classroom. Sorry Trace, Daphne. We'll continue later."

"No problem," Tracey replied. Her eternal cheer was at odds with Harry's current torrent of emotion.

Harry and Delphini followed Tomasha out of the common room and a few doors over into the closest classroom.

Tomasha sat down on a table as Harry closed the door. "What's going on?" she asked, concern on her face.

Harry searched for words for a few seconds. The ones that came out weren't the ones he had intended to say. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tomasha looked at him in confusion. "Tell you what?"

"That you're – that _he_ is your father."

There, the words were out. Harry found himself shaking, and he distantly realized he was close to breaking out in tears.

Tomasha actually seemed to not know what to say for a moment, but collected herself. "How did you find that out?"

"Is that what you care about?" Harry exclaimed, anger suddenly rising. "How I found out? Why didn't you tell me? You kept this from me! You knew! You knew even back when we first met!"

"Yes," Delphini said sarcastically. "That's a great way to introduce ourselves. 'Hi, I'm Delphini, my dad killed your parents, let's be friends!'"

Harry wanted to give an angry reply, but paused as the words got through to him. That _did_ sound rather ridiculous.

"But why didn't you tell me _later_?" he wanted to know.

"I'm sorry," Tomasha said, hopping off the table and approaching him, but Harry backed off. "I… we didn't know how to tell you," she said. "You're right, we should have told you."

"I don't even know if I can trust you!" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course you can!" Tomasha immediately replied. "Harry, you know us, right? We've been friends for years. I've taught you occlumency, we've practiced wandless spells together, we were together at school, everything else. Do you really believe we'd do that if we're going to leave you?"

"Or maybe you're just trying to lure me to his side, and you'll leave me if I won't agree!"

"No!" Tomasha pretty much shouted. "Harry, we'd never do that. I promise. Right, Delph?"

"I won't," Delphini said. "Leave you, that is."

Tomasha nodded confidently. "And I won't either. Harry, you've heard about the war, right? What he's like? Do you really think he'd even allow you to live?"

"I don't know," Harry said, all anger again deflating from him. He was starting to feel tired. "But he's still your father."

Tomasha turned to her sister. "Delph, can you go back to the common room? There's a few things between me and Harry that I want to talk about."

Masking her surprise, Delphini left, leaving the two of them alone.

"Harry, remember how I cared for you when I first discovered what the Dursleys did to you? And every time after? Do you really think I'd have done that if I'd been on _his_ side?"

"If you want me to join him," Harry said, though he wasn't sure at this point why he was arguing. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe that Tomasha would be on his side, even now that he knew who her father was.

"Harry, no offense, but you were a wreck back then. If I'd have ignored you, I'm not sure if you'd even have made Hogwarts. If you had, I have no doubt you'd have been completely isolated, maybe except for one or two friends that you might just run into by sheer luck. Kind of like how Weasley happened to ask if he could join in our compartment on the train. You wouldn't have known occlumency, wouldn't have known about the magical world, your position in the magical world, and so on.

"There's no way you would've been a danger to him in any way. Can you imagine how convenient that'd be? A nemesis who lets everyone walk over him, who doesn't know any magic, who can barely pass school?

"If I was on my father's side, I'd never risk losing all that for the _chance_ you'd join the man who murdered your parents."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Tomasha repeated, edging closer to Harry. "I should have. _We_ should have, though I'm not sure if Delph could possibly bring it in a good way. I'm not sure if _I_ could, actually. But, well, I guess now you know. Harry, I'll stay with you, on your side. I promise. You're my friend."

Hesitant, with a pleading look in her eyes, she reached out to him.

Finally, all walls Harry had broke down and he pulled her into a hug as his emotions from the day poured out.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, with Tomasha offering words of encouragement, ensuring him that nothing could come between their friendship, not even her family.

When Harry collected himself, aided by a very handy spell from Tomasha to remove any traces of crying, he felt like he was ready for bed, yet it was barely time for dinner. Together with Tomasha, he went back to the common room, wondering if he shouldn't have chased this secret in the first place.

* * *

**AN: Check out my Twitter (handle: Leyrann) or Discord (/WzYpyPT) for the latest updates on my writing. Also check out the site-that-shall-not-be-named (creator: Leyrann) if you wish to support me. Benefits include teasers of future chapters, sneak peeks into my outlining and more. Also, the teasers will be made publicly available on Discord two days before a new chapter is posted.**


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